


After She Left

by agoodwoman



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, X Files Revival, season 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 176,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodwoman/pseuds/agoodwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 1 begins before the revival; they're estranged as a couple and living in separate homes.</p><p>Over the course of the season 10 timeline, Mulder and Scully have to heal, forgive and learn to trust again as they decide what the future holds for their relationship before it's too late.</p><p>(Early chapters are being edited and expanded, as of Aug 2, 2017. Chapter 7 is new as of Nov 2, 2017, Chapter 8 Updated November 3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in April 2014

There were little moments Mulder looked forward to when they were finally together because these days they were mostly apart.

She would make the drive out to Virginia to the house they once shared, to the home of memories and light they built together where he all but begged her to stay for more than just the weekend on more than one occasion.

Usually, she would arrive late on a Friday night after a long week with patients. This time, she found him standing over the kitchen sink eating a peanut butter and jam sandwich. He didn't want to cook for one and he couldn't bring himself to dirty more than a knife.

It was April of 2014 and they had seen each other just last week. In the city, he kissed her on the cheek and she looked at him, wondering what he was up to.

That evening as she stood on the edge of the kitchen they shared many meals together, he could tell that she was wondering about him. She set her keys down on the counter and he looked at her with a darkness and sadness he knew she couldn't bear. Why? Why not anymore? She loved him. Her heart always belonged to him. No matter her geography, she would always love him even if she couldn't live there 365 days of the year. This way, she didn't need to live among his madness and obsession.

"I wasn't expecting you this weekend," he said and washed the butter knife, placing it in the wooden drying rack she picked out when they first bought the house. He felt embarrassed she had caught him doing a mildly pathetic act of eating over the sink instead of something more functional like preparing a meal to eat at a table. He nodded towards the sink. "Old habits."

She shrugged one shoulder and crossed her arms in front of her. He knew that she wasn't trying to appear closed off but she had the tendency to run coldwhereas he ran warm. After twenty years, they were still on opposite sides of the line when it came to most things. It was the bleak side of someone being your perfect opposite. He kept the house cooler when she wasn't around. If he was expecting her, he built a fire and closed any open windows. He stopped doing it every weekend because it made him too sad when she didn't come. He would get an email Saturday afternoon explaining she had a surgery run late, her mother needed her help that weekend or another excuse Mulder accepted but didn't always believe.

"I have groceries in the car," she replied after a beat of silence. "I can make a proper dinner."

He followed her to the dusty driveway she complained about and watched as she struggled on the gravel in her heels. Mulder put his hand out to steady her and she looked at him gratefully but with something else. It was probably resentment towards never paving the driveway, even though she no longer had claims over the state of the property anymore. She told him he could do what he wanted with their ordinary house, let the grass get overgrown and leave dishes for days if it helped him search for the truth but she wouldn't be there to clean up the mess. It had been a rough transition for him to care for the house outside of his obsessions.  
  
In the trunk, he spotted food for more than just a night and noted she had her overnight bag. She had some clothes in the closet but a lot of them had migrated back to her place. He hated that.

"How long are you here for?" he asked as he picked up the cloth bags by their handles.

"I'm off until Wednesday," she said, picking up her bag and closing the trunk. "I can stay until then if you'd like."

He would want her there always. It was never a question about if he wanted her there. Since she walked into his basement office, he wanted her with him. Unfortunately, he would never push her to stay longer than she felt comfortable or have expectations of long visits. Leaving became easier for her more and more these days. It was harder on him after she left and the spaces around him became reminders of his loneliness. 

She prepared the dinner. Pork chops with mashed potatoes, green beans and gravy for them. He could hear her moving around the kitchen, humming to herself a song she probably heard on the radio while she drove there. It was bittersweet to watch her muddle in a kitchen and look so domestic naturally when it would only be for a night or two. It was familiar and yet this wouldn't last either. 

Mulder showered, put fresh sheets on the bed and cleaned up the bedroom he hardly used anymore. He couldn't sleep in a bed they used to share nightly. Even before... when she lived there, if she slept at the hospital because of work, he slept on his couch in the office. As he was coming down the stairs, he ran a hand over the two days of stubble on his cheeks. It wasn't long enough for her to protest but he went back upstairs to shave anyway.

"Pork chops will be another minute," she called over her shoulder as she stirred the gravy. Mulder came up behind her and kissed her neck, holding her by her hips and tasting the skin at her shirt collar. "Mmmmmmm."

"I miss you," he said and she closed her eyes as he nipped at her skin and moved one hand up to her breast.

This part of their reunions was easy to slip back into. His tactile nature called to touch her and feel her body against his. He spent seven years knowing he couldn't because of rules of work, friendship and personal quests. Now in their estrangement, he was grateful this fragment of what they once had was still available for them to enjoy.

"Mulderrrrrr," she meant it to be a warning but she was enjoying herself. It didn't happen like this often, turn to sex so quickly, yet sometimes when she had been gone for a few weeks, they took solace in each other's bodies.

He knew that she missed him too. She told him the last time that his tongue danced along the inside of her thigh that she missed the feeling of him above her, his hands on her body and the touch of his skin. They had grown accustomed to talking in the dark as they fell asleep or napping on the porch hammocks bathed in sunlight.

Before she left, sleep was a different routine for them. For a man who had irregular sleep patterns for too long, his body had forced him to nap during the day. Turning fifty would do that to a man. He would fall asleep on the sofa, still holding on to a paper with one hand, catching up on the hours he missed at night. Upon finding him, Scully would crawl along the couch and nestle into the crook of his arm. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat, her scent and the feeling of her body next to his was like a lullaby. His arm would wrap around her, naturally, holding her to him and a hand would sit on her lower back, his place. As she fell asleep, she would sigh and shift against him, an eye would open and he would place a soft kiss on her head before he fell back asleep. It would be a more soothing sleep with her there. She made everything better.

"The timer on the oven says fifteen minutes," Mulder read the clock before going back to kissing her neck. "Simmer the gravy and come upstairs."

Scully shut off the burner and moved the gravy to the back of the stove. She turned around in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He had brushed his teeth upstairs, masking how he tasted on her tongue. She told him that he couldn't hide that too much and she liked it. He imagined that the taste was still there. Sometimes like coffee, sometimes like salt from a sunflower seed but still always him just as she was always her. She was softer, sweeter and smoother than anything else he had ever had.

"Come upstairs," he whispered into her hair.

"Dinner first," she bargained.

Mulder kissed her mouth firmly and looked down at her. She looked tired, worn out from her daily life and he worried she wasn't eating enough. Funny how the caretaker tendencies that she displayed for him were mirroring back to her.

"Dinner first," he agreed.

  
******

  
He washed the remaining dishes from supper as she sipped wine and relaxed on the couch. The old routines from domesticity came back easily to them. Who would clean up and who would make the coffee for the next morning became usual patterns of comfort.

It came back easily when they would make love after a month of being apart. His eidetic memory served him well and he knew her body like he knew her mind. She would be responsive to him while putting her knowledge of human anatomy and their history of where to touch and what he liked. The emotional need for finding comfort in one another outweighed the repercussions when they were apart. After she left, it was harder for him to have lonely nights where he could avoid thinking of her and what they had just done. It was confusing because they weren't together and yet they weren't entirely apart. They were something else but their emotional limbo only hurt him during the long stretches when she didn't return to him. 

Even as they joked about getting older, Mulder didn't feel like a middle-aged man when he was with her. Not because of some marathon fucking they did on the weekends but because she reminded him of what was good about himself. Her presence was like a poultice for everything that was wrong. Being away from her, being separated most of the time, these moments made it better.

Mulder joined her in the living room and she made room on the couch for him to sit in the corner. His spot at the right end of the couch complete with wear patterns on the armrest from where he drummed his fingers, rubbed them nervously during live baseball games and sunk in the middle from his repeated weight.

She sat in the bow of his arm, her back resting against his side with her feet propped on the couch next to her. He flexed his muscles against her back as she laid against him.

During their respite from each other, Mulder was still running. He kept his sneakers by the back door and he saw her eyeing them as she made dinner. He felt stronger these days too. The home gym they set up in the basement was getting some use again and at times it was for health reasons rather but occasionally it was fueled by anxiety and anger.

When she decided she couldn't stay there anymore, it had been a long time since he had taken care of his appearance. His beard had grown back and he stopped cutting his hair.

He still remembered the argument as they stood in the kitchen. It was March, 2013 and he couldn't look her in the eye. She told him she couldn't save him from himself if he didn't want to be saved and if he kept pushing her away. He yelled at her that if she couldn't take him like this then she deserved to be lost with everyone else when they came.

They never came and he couldn't stop thinking about why.

"Don't think about it," he said and kissed her hair.

It wasn't that he was reading her mind anymore, but they both fret about the same worries as they had before. He looked at her knowing she abandoned him long before she left. She disengaged herself from him, slowly extracting herself from his long tentacles of obsession and passion until she simply was gone from his life.

What was that dark time and how could they ever repair it?

After she left, he waited a few weeks to call her. He had excuses in the past but asking her where they kept the backup batteries or what the meat in the freezer was that went unlabeled weren't strong enough. He figured them out and left her alone. When he called her on Saturday mornings that she didn't drive to see him, he hoped someone else would answer her phone. It would be hard but he could understand she left him because there was someone else.

"I think I need to get out of here for a while," he said and she took a long sip of her wine. "Change of scenery."

"Where?"

"I want to go to the city with you," he said assuredly but inside he worried she would tell him no.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"It's time."

He needed a change of scenery from this ordinary house and beautiful landscape. He wasn't falling into catatonic schizophrenia like she had said about Mulder being in the suburbs but the peace and quiet had become too much for him for too long.

After his exoneration, he spent the next few years working for newspapers and psychological journals. He wrote and got published. He kept himself busy but it wasn't the same. He missed the city and her.

"I might have some work lined up..." he started. It was an excuse but he wanted to be with her. "It would be good to stay there when I'm in town."

"Taking a helicopter into Washington doesn't strike your fancy?" she asked.

"Turns out, after 100 flights they won't let you help fly the chopper, so who needs that?" Mulder joked and they shared a laugh.

They didn't have many of those days. He had never talked about leaving the property like this. Not lightly but with a serious intent.

"Are you ready to have a roommate?" he asked tentatively.

There was a worry in his voice that he hated but she could reject his request too. The potential to be denied was heartbreaking.

He could see her deciding what to say next and then smiled secretively at him. "I like my spaces better when you're in them."

Mulder blushed at the admission. Scully wasn't normally verbally demonstrative unless she was experiencing nirvana brought on by his talents.

"I love you," he said, studying her profile.

"Oh brother," she scoffed. He poked a finger into her ribs getting an uncharacteristic squeal from her as she squirmed away but he held her close. There was silence for a beat and she kissed his left forearm that was across her chest, holding her shoulder to him. "I love you too."

"So...." he said slowly.

She stood up and held her hand out to him. "Let's go to bed."

He followed her up the stairs, leaving a few lights on in case. He didn't know in case of what. In case she changed her mind or in case she asked him to sleep on the couch. The doubt and worry crept into his mind often.

When she left, she told him she couldn't stay because she couldn't watch him destroy his life and hers over aliens and conspiracies. She lost that fight and it was over. He yelled at her that she should have more integrity and tell the truth. He had finally stopped deserving her and she told him it wasn't to do with that. She said time and time again that he was a good man but this fear of what was coming was hurting both of them. But in all the darkness he brought into their home, she didn't want this obsession taking over again.

It was a long six months until they spoke again. They were forced to meet at the bank to discuss the renewal of the mortgage. There were many reasons to part ways after their appointment but they used that flimsy excuse to go for coffee. Coffee turned into lunch, which turned into dinner, which lead to her spending three days in bed with him.

"Mulder?" Scully called from the bathroom and pulled him from his memories of how things fell apart. "Where's the bubble bath?"

"I threw it out," he replied and she made a disappointed face like it was to hurt her. "There was a bee in it." 

Scully nodded and turned the dual heads for the shower. After Mulder watched an HGTV marathon on beautiful bathrooms, he insisted for two weeks he could make their shower better. Scully wanted to point out his history with plumbing but he did the necessary research, he ordered the right tools and got to work. He re-tiled the back splash, fixed the downstairs toilet and put in the second shower head by adding a T-Galv pipe. They had to bathe in the guest bathroom upstairs for two months but when it was finished, they took a celebratory shower together that lead to bathroom acrobatics.

As she undressed, Mulder took in the sight of her body. It had been a few weeks and every time, he still responded like it was the first time. He told her she was beautiful while reaching out to her and she flushed at the compliment.

"I just had a shower," Mulder pointed out as she pulled him towards the shower and pushed his boxers down.

"So come in and wash my back," she invited with a grin.


	2. Time Gaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing chapter 1, set April 2014

It had been over a year of them officially having separate residences and Mulder found each day to be a struggle. His days began to blur together and became routine in the monotony of repeating the routine over and over again. After falling asleep on the couch the previous night in the early hours of the morning, he would wake up late, spend what was left of the morning catching up on news, trade theories online with some contacts and run in the afternoons before dinner.

Bad habits formed rather quickly. He cooked one big meal on Mondays and made it last throughout the week. If he was being honest, it was because he hated spending time in the kitchen. Everything reminded him of her. If he could bring himself to leave the house altogether, he would and possibly find solace in someplace less riddled with memories of them. Part of him still held on to the idea she would come home and they could pick up like she never left.

The house was virtually haunted by memories of her. There was furniture they had picked out together, pieces she had found at flea markets on trips alone and items he had ordered online that she wasn’t fond of but accepted anyway like the rest of his quirks. He corrected himself because she used to accept those quirks. At least when she left him, she had the decency or cruelty to leave their marital bed behind.

Areas of the house such as the bedroom were off limits. The kitchen was still a necessity but a reminder of where they were as a couple. When she returned, they cooked together in there, made coffee and discussed what was in the news. Over the years, they made love on the counter once or twice. Actually, it was more if Mulder was counting, which he promised Scully he wouldn't do. More than once, they ate ice cream on the floor in their underwear in the summer when it was hot.

After 2008, they lived their lives openly like a husband and wife. He proposed two weeks after he was cleared over spaghetti bolognese and she made a face. She apologized and asked him not to ask her anymore. They fought two weeks later about it, suppressing his hurt feelings only lasted so long.

"Why don't you want to get married?" he pushed. "Or is it you don't want to get married _to me_?"  
   
"I don't need to be married by a church or the law to think of us that way," she replied back. "It's just a legality after all we've been through. I don't need to define how I feel about you with paper or a ring."  
   
"What if it's something  _I_ need?" he challenged. "What if it's something I want to give you?"  
   
" _Mulder_ ," she said in that tone that said so many things. Mulder in that tone meant he was being ridiculous. It meant that his theory couldn't possibly pan out when it usually did.  
   
"Why can't we do that  _one_ thing like everyone else?" he said, exasperated at her need to contend with him.  
   
Scully narrowed her eyes on him and he walked around the kitchen. She tossed the dishtowel on the counter and crossed her arms in front of her. This time she wasn't cold, she was argumentative.  
   
"Did my brother put you up to this?" she asked.  
   
Mulder gave her a look that conveyed his opinions of her brother as well as the fact that he wouldn't be swayed by what Bill Scully thought of him. He did want the guy to stop giving him a hard time at family dinners but he wouldn't get into this much of a fit over the opinions of Bill Scully Jr.

Scully held her hands up. " _Sorry_. Okay."  
   
"I just thought it was time," he confessed, crossing his own arms. "What's holding us back? We have that trip coming up. I'm not wanted by the FBI anymore. What's your hold up?"  
   
She walked on the tile floor to him and uncrossed his arms. He was unwilling to look at her while she looked up at him.

"You know when you asked me the first time, I thought it was about banking stuff. When you asked the next five times, I thought it was a joke. Now I see you're serious."  
   
"Scully, the first time I asked you to marry me was in 1998 and you scoffed at me," Mulder reminded her as he made eye contact.  
   
"To be fair, I was dealing with a possessed doll and you were listening to me talk about the occult and black magic like it was phone sex," she retorted.  
   
"That was better than-"

She held up a hand. "Let me stop you right there."

Mulder laughed gently and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to his body. He kissed the side of her head and let out a slow breath. "Marry me, Scully." 

"No," she said, looking up at him sadly. 

"Don't you love me anymore?" he said in a teasing tone. He had moved on past the idea at this point. He would goad her to hide his feelings, even though he knew she wasn’t a fan of that. She pushed on his chest and he pulled her tighter to him, kissing her neck. "Marry me, Miss Scully!" 

"Oh, fuck off," she laughed and pushed on his body again. 

"We could be Mulder and Mulder," he said brightly and let her walk away from him.

"If I ever agree to marry you, you are never calling me that," she replied and threw the dishtowel at him, leaving him to do the rest of the dishes himself.

The memory of that conversation drifted from his mind and Mulder looked around the kitchen where Scully had begun to get dinner ready. Her glass of wine sat on the counter and he observed the lipstick on the rim. He remembered a time when such observances of her femininity would baffle him for a moment.

Mulder had become accustomed to the ins and outs of her routine and he no longer paused mid-sentence as she reapplied lipstick or looked at the packaging of pantyhose in wonder. He knew exactly what the nylons felt like in his fingers as he peeled them down her smooth legs and what the shade of her lipstick looked like on his mouth. The wonder of the female side of Scully had gone and all that was left was mixed, bittersweet memories.

 

**********************

  
The evening was getting late and Mulder could see that Scully was growing tired. The drive in wore on her more than it used to. It was probably because of all the things she was anticipating getting into with him. He had to say that he understood that. When he knew that she was coming, he felt his anxiety work through potential fights and scenarios he wanted to avoid or hash out.

She told him once that it wasn't easy to be there as much as it used to be but leaving him was harder than everything else she did. He simply replied that she should just stay then but it was nearly impossible these days to be together full time.

After their shower, they were in bed together with pork chops and gravy making their bellies happy.

Mulder ran his fingers gently up her naked back. Her skin had cooled from their lovemaking after their shower but she was warmer than usual.  

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, looking up from where her head lay on his chest. 

"Proposals," Mulder said simply. 

"What kind?" she clarified.  
   
He kept his eyes on the ceiling. "Marriage."

While they were technically separated now, Mulder and Scully had found themselves finally married after his freedom came in 2008. It was difficult for her to eventually say yes and he wondered if getting her to come home would be the same struggle.  
   
"Mulder, no," she said, starting to pull away.  
   
"It's okay, I was just thinking of the last time I asked you," he said reassuringly and she laid back down on his chest.   
   
The last time he asked her, she said yes practically on a whim, thinking that he wouldn't follow through with a wedding license or anything serious. She didn't realize he was.   
   
"What do you want, Dana?" Mulder asked. "I’m trying to offer normality."  
   
Despite what most people assumed about them, he did call her Dana sometimes when they were alone together at night. He sighed it in the morning when the sun came in through the windows, even in the winter. When it was intimate and they felt close, he would whisper her name and it felt right. He had been calling her Scully for so long that it seemed out of order to call her anything else. Dana wasn't who she was anymore.  
   
"You need to stop," she advised as an eye roll of epic proportions moved across her face.  
   
"I’m trying to make myself more of who you want,” he explained as he continued to touch and kiss her.

Mulder needed contact after the sex was over versus the instinct to ‘deposit his seed’ and run. The caveman aspect of his biology was there but he had learned over the years that some instincts were meant to be fought against. He found comfort in opening up with her instead of rolling over and falling asleep.

“You are who I want,” she countered. “It’s just…”

“The darkness and my paranoia,” he finished for her. “This isn’t working.”

“What part?” she asked.

“The part where you leave and I have to live with your _ghost_ around here,” he replied as he looked around the room where she had already brightened it with her things. It would be temporary until she packed up and left again.

“I’m not trying to hurt you by coming home,” she replied as she rolled onto her back on the bed. “I can stop if I’m not welcome-”

“No one said that,” he interjected as he rolled on his side to look down at her. “I just need us to be on the same page with where we’re going. This feels like limbo.”  
   
"Because it is," she said for emphasis and he winced. “Limbo isn’t permanent, Mulder. But if we move forward, it’s because it’s going to take more than just a few good weekends together to actually fix what was broken. I’m not just talking about the normality of using our first names and sharing a car."  
   
"Okay, I get it," he replied, feeling as though it could lead to another fight if he pushed it. Fighting wasn't bad. Fighting meant there still passion there. "I can stop pushing."  
   
They both knew he wouldn’t. That was his nature. It was why they weren't together. There wasn't just Mulder and Scully in their relationship and breaking them apart. Scully had told him that as long as he felt there was a truth he didn't know, it was like he was having an affair and that darkness was a burden neither of them knew how to contend with. 

It wasn’t fair when his quest for answers to saving humanity and not some selfish pursuit of a better life with a twenty-year-old version of her. He only wanted her but he wanted resolution too.  
   
After she left, they both knew it wasn't about their marriage or petty differences they couldn't solve. They didn't fight about the little things that made the big things unbearable such as who would fold the laundry or why the dishes weren't done. She needed to escape seclusion and the sadness his quest brought into their lives. For years, they had tried to keep their former demons out of their home but ultimately, the proverbial wolf howling at the door was too much. Eventually, he stopped trying and every day he brought more of what she didn’t want in their home. She called it depression and he called her a coward. The third party at their table set for two was a mistress she told him she couldn't compete with and didn't have the heart to keep trying. He didn’t blame her.

They were at an impasse since he had yet to be reinstated into any regular job that would sanction his search to prove or deny colonization. Consulting jobs with private investigation firms, writing a book and consulting with a few police departments were a far cry from the office he held at the FBI. It was a basement office but it at least allowed him access down avenues of investigation he was denied now.

Ultimately, he knew that she had yet to forgive him for choosing this quest over her and their happiness.

Mulder just wanted her to see that he could choose her as long as she continued to keep looking into the abyss with him. It was what he needed. He became that person as a young man when his sister was taken in front of him. While it took twenty-five years to work through the memories, he finally understood it wasn’t his fault. He just wanted to rectify that so it never happened to another child. It didn’t matter that what they knew of the syndicate burned in that airplane hanger and Spender had been killed, he felt deep down that something was coming.

In all the years Scully had been in his life, she only once tried to quit on him and it was after five long years of struggle and losing their office. She stood in his apartment door and told him that a job outside of the X-Files in the FBI wasn’t holding the same interest for her. He knew she was tired but he needed her there with him. He believed in himself and what he was searching for because she grounded him. She peppered his theories with science and facts, made it into legitimate work and find respect among his peers.

It took an Africanized honey bee carrying an alien virus to reinvigorate her determination to find and bring the men involved with colonization to justice. What else would it take to get her back into searching for answers?

It occurred to Mulder then. William.

“What are you thinking?” she asked as she turned over in the bed.

“About our son,” he answered quietly.

Scully put her hand on Mulder’s cheek and he pulled her arm towards his mouth to kiss the inside of her wrist. “I was thinking about him on the drive over.”

Mulder grinned at her. “What were you thinking?”

She sighed as he kissed his way up her arm. “I was thinking he would be almost fourteen now and probably eager to learn to drive soon. I wondered if his hair ever darkened or if he stayed fair.”

Mulder looked at the red hair across the pillow by Scully’s head. “Your dad is a redhead and your mother is a natural brunette?”

She nodded.

“I am sure he kept your colouring,” he mused and she shook her head. “Why?”

“I would hope he would have your skin… and eyes maybe,” she said. She looked into his eyes and she looked embarrassed but also happy. “I miss him… and I don’t know if he ever thinks about us.”

Mulder kissed her shoulder and on her collarbone. “I think about the same things sometimes. It’s hard because I want him to be oblivious to who we are but then selfishly, I think I would rather be missed than not known.”

Scully grinned at him as her fingers thread in his hair. “You’re definitely not anonymous in the FBI but I wouldn’t have gone into that job with anyone else at my side.”

There, in the bed she bought in 2003 after a year on the run, she sighed and moved off him, foregoing her robe to walk naked to the bathroom. Mulder, as usual, was very encouraging of these naked moments, of her being free about her body sometimes whistling at her or just groping her when she was naked. She furrowed her eyebrows while she gave him a humouring smile as though he was being silly but appreciated the attention all the same.

When she returned to the bed, she gave him a look that said more than what she had expressed and he kissed her firmly on the mouth. Her mouth opened to his and he shifted on the bed to pull her on top of him. A hand moved down her back and he squeezed her bare backside, while the other threaded through her hair.

Over a decade ago, he made love to her hours before she made a speech to him in a hallway at the FBI. He didn't know it would be the last time they would be together before alien abductions, unplanned pregnancies, a death and resurrection. The next time they were able to be together, he joked if he had known the last time was going to be the last, he would have tried a little harder. Scully teased him that he tried just hard enough and he felt delighted after eight years, she was more open with her innuendo.

He rolled them so he was on top and she felt him grow hard between them. Scully's medical mind deduced that even in his fifties, his refractory time was on average fifteen minutes.

"Are you timing me?" Mulder asked after he saw her glance over at the clock on his side of the bed.

"I was noting no change in your health, actually," she replied, opening her legs so he could nestle more in between them. "Your doctor should note these things on your file."

"You know Doctor Scully, if you treat all your patients with this level of care, I wonder how you ever get any other work done," he teased.

"Mister Mulder, you're the only patient that gets this kind of care," she retorted. "Now shut up and kiss me."

"You're a bossy doctor," he whispered and covered her mouth with his.

He kissed her thoroughly while pushing himself into her. Her body moved under his and she felt him slide against her sex. There was something about being with her that still made his heart race. Fourteen years after their first time together, she was everything he wanted in another person. Being with her still excited him and she confessed to him that he made her feel feral and sensual. He knew that he brought out the side in her that was tampered down by business suits, doctor's scrubs and professional titles. Knowing that much made it all the more exciting for him.

He hooked his arms under hers and she wrapped her legs around his. Kissing progressed to hands grabbing at flesh and his cock pushed its way into her tight walls. Their first time earlier that evening, after the shower and before she reminisced about her life she was escaping from, it was not rushed. It was slow and felt right. Round two with them was always different. Rougher but more tender.

She pushed him off of her and he laid back on the bed. They were not partial to one position and as with their relationship, there was always give and take. Mulder held her thighs as she sunk down onto him, relishing the change in pressure in this position. He liked it when she was on top. His visual sensory was on overload the first time she rode him and he had to ask her to slow down a few times. Sex, like many things in life, had its hiccups but neither of them had any complaints.

Their differences at work and in life hadn’t pushed them apart as a romantic couple or extend into their bed. If anything, it made it so much better to know and feel closest to someone who saw everything so differently than he did. In the end, their curiosity and passion drove them to pursue the truths in live however their methods would be different. In the end, they had the same goal.

Even with all of their strife and hardship, the sex between them worked so well. It almost made it more difficult to stay angry at her that she had disappeared from their home.

Mulder sat up and she wrapped one arm around his neck, her soft skin hot against his shoulders. His body felt like it was on fire and he looked down to watch where they were joined, as her sex moved up and down on his. Mulder kissed her neck and held her body at the base of her back. The other hand was splayed behind him and gave him leverage to thrust up when their bodies met.

He moved his face in front of hers and their lips met briefly. The only sound was panting in unison and the occasional moan.

Scully moved her hand to where they were joined because the odds of her climaxing in that position were minimal. She spread her arousal across her clit and she stopped moving for a moment while she clenched around him with growing excitement. She had come three times in their last session and her body would be hypersensitive, even an hour later.

Mulder pushed his hips into hers and she cried out at the new movement. "God!"

He picked her up and flipped her onto her back, allowing her to get herself there. Just watching her could make him come.

Deciding small thrusts would be best based on the change in her moans, he pushed deep inside of her and moved until he could feel her cervix. 

"Ah! Right there!" her hands moved from his shoulders down his arm, her nails biting at the skin along there. It would probably leave a mark.

He grabbed that hand and pulled it over her head, while his mouth moved its way along the other side of her neck, marking her there. His tongue bathed where his teeth marked before he moved further down her shoulder to the part of her clavicle and acromion. He loved this spot on her and during happier days encouraged her often to wear items that showed it off. The flesh had become sensitive to his mouth and when he removed the strap on a dress or a nightgown, kissing her there, he knew the sensation went straight to her sex.

"Mull-" she started to say and he covered her mouth with his.

His tongue slid into her mouth and they shared the taste of her from earlier that night.

He could feel her growing close to her next orgasm. Her neck felt hot against his touch. He watched her as she struggled to coordinate her finger back and forth across the tiny bundle of nerves as she strained to kiss him. Watching her get to her own release was truly a thing of beauty.

Mulder pulled out almost all the way and thrust back hard inside of her, his cock pushing her swollen walls apart. Her breath hitched and he groaned into her neck. The skin on his back was becoming slick with sweat and his nostrils filled with her familiar scent.

"Oh god, I'm gonna come," she moaned, almost regrettably and he grunted in response.

The eruption burst through her and she clutched at the bedsheets with her pinned hand while the other continued to work her clit. Mulder hoped she would keep going because it could pull her orgasm from one into the next. Mulder began moving faster, pushing harder into her as he rode out her orgasm with her. Suddenly, his own orgasm shot out of him and he emptied himself inside of her. 

They lay panting for a moment, their bodies hot from their activities and exhausted from the emotion of the day. Mulder released her wrist and lay his head on her chest.

“Did you miss me?” he asked as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel her nod yes from the movement of her chest and he kissed her breastbone softly. “Good.”

"I love you," she whispered, running her hands up his back.

Mulder looked up at her tenderly and noticed her chin wavering.

"I love you too," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

A single tear left her eye and she wiped it away quickly. "I'm sorry."

He waited for her to elaborate. He knew if he was going to get anything out of her, he had to give her time.

"I'm sorry I... I'm so sorry," she said, more tears falling down her face, towards her hair. "I forgot... I needed space and I'm sorry."

Mulder was shocked. "I don't begrudge you anything, Scully."

"Even though I left?" she asked, wiping away more tears. It wasn't a proposal of marriage she kept denying, it was wearing a ring he bought her and changing her last name.  

"I am happy to do this until we’re both ready to reconcile without the demons weighting on us," he offered and she shook her head. “Why not?”

"That's not us," she said heavily. “We’ll always have them.”

"It could have been," he said, kissing her breastbone. "Maybe in another lifetime."

"Not with our names," she said sadly. "I don’t know how to stay and fight this problem with us. I'm sorry."

Mulder looked into her eyes. "I should never have let you leave. I promised before I would always find you, I wouldn't let you go. I lost myself. I left this place and was someplace dark that I don't want to go back to. I’m not going to be that person ever again, Scully."

Whether they were marriage vows or hushed promises in bed, it was the best he could offer at that moment. He would do better, she wouldn't run away. They would try harder and it would work better this time around. It's what they did. It was who they were, always.


	3. Dana For a While

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set, May 2013

The house they built together and the person she was for the last twenty years wasn't someone she recognized anymore. Neither was he. When she left, she was allowed to be Dana for a while and remember who that person was before she began working in the basement office and identified by her last name. Shortly after they began working together, she didn’t mind being known as Mrs. Spooky because the work she did in that basement office was more exciting as a scientist and an agent with the FBI than anything else she’d ever done.

Medicine was rewarding but not even close to as exciting. After the last twenty years with Mulder, she almost welcomed routine and mundane. She left him on a Thursday in the early spring of 2013 and spent the summer of that year burying herself in her work. It only assuaged her feelings of loss for so long. Work could only be so much to her when it wasn’t the X-Files and sometimes, regardless of the extreme measures she took to save a life, a child still died.

After three months in her a new apartment, Dana tried to create a life for herself outside of Mulder. She had to push beyond her comfort levels and remember what it was like to not live by the insistence of a recluse that the sky was falling. She wanted something for herself and a life she could be proud of. So much of her life prior to that was based around what Mulder’s quest had brought them. She made it her own and left the aspirations of her life behind for the truth. Leaving him was supposed to change all that but so far, all she felt was empty and distant from those around her.

The heartache she felt while living with Mulder made her feel like she was drowning and she desperately wanted to breathe without pain from the lack of his presence in her life. Mulder might snidely remark that she could still have him in her life if she just went home but she had too much pride for that. It had only been three months and he had yet to reach out for her too. At this point, she wasn’t sure if he would accept her return.

As she tried to find normality in her new surroundings, she made plans outside of work. Dana accepted invitations from fellow doctors for dinner. For a while, engaging in a small social circle helped quell the guilt she had about leaving. She focused on herself for the first time in twenty years and thankfully, her family didn’t ask why she was suddenly attending every event alone.

Two months into her relocation to D.C., there was a near miss with a mugger four blocks from her apartment that caught her off guard. Her senses to look for the usual dangers had been dulled after living out of the way in a safe bubble for too long. She renewed her firearm license to practice twice a week and took a refresher course in self-defence. She wasn’t going to be another statistic in a police blotter or a tragic story of a woman living alone. She didn’t care what other people thought of her as an FBI agent and she wasn’t about to start now so she bought a membership at the gun range where it was mainly a male, conservative mix of races. It surprised her for D.C., that felt less of a male-dominated city, however she assumed the clientele might have something to do with her new neighbourhood.

The crowd had stopped doing a double take as she walked down the aisle towards her lane when she arrived and a few of the fellow shooters had remarked on her impeccable aim. It was how she met Tad the first time.

“You’re a hell of a marksman,” he noted as she shed her protection ear muffs.

Scully looked up at the tall, handsome blonde in front of her and guessed he was at least five years her junior. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Are you new to the area?” he asked as she put the safety on her weapon, put it in her Bulldog case and shook her head. “Old to the area?”

Scully looked up at him and he grinned at her in that way that reminded her of Mulder when he made a bad joke. It had been a long time since a man made eye contact with her and attempted to pick her up but she could sense the intention.

“New to the area but not D.C. I used to live in Georgetown,” she confessed and immediately regretted sharing that information. “I work nearby.”

The man put a finger to his mouth and tapped on his lips a few times. “Lawyer?”

Scully raised an eyebrow and snapped her case shut. “No.”

“You’re not a businesswoman,” he surmised and she pulled her lips tight as she shook her head. “Something important. A doctor?”

Scully raised her eyebrows. “Good guess.”

“Third time is usually easier for me,” he replied and she studied his face to try to ascertain if he was making a bad come on. “So, Doctor, can I take you for a post-shoot beverage?”

“I don’t usually go places with men who have yet to introduce themselves,” Scully remarked and someone on the other side of the partition scoffed.

His cheeks pinked. “I’m Tad O’Malley.”

He said it as though she should know the significance of his name and she shook her head.

“I have a web show,” he continued as though it might jog her memory.

Scully smiled ruefully. “I don’t watch web-based television programs.”

“What about reality television?” he asked with a smile and found herself surprised she was smiling back.

“Does C-SPAN count?” she asked and he laughed. She didn’t mean it as a joke but she didn’t mind that he was laughing all the same. “Then I guess no.”

“So, doctor are you going to give me a hint at a name or do we have to do this a few more times before I get your initials?” he joked.

There was a moment where she thought about telling him no and walking away. Until recently, conversations with men who tried to pick her up were abruptly ended with the words ‘I’m married.’ She wasn’t technically divorced but she wasn’t wearing her ring anymore either.

She thought about the ways in which she had felt hurt and frustrated over the last few years. It pushed her out of her comfort zone because lately, her comfort zone had set her into a reclusive state with Mulder that wasn’t healthy for either of them.

“Dana Scully,” she said.

“Nice to meet you Dana Scully,” he said as he offered his large hand to shake. “I thought maybe the E! Network and Keeping Up With the Kardashians might have been your guilty pleasure. I’ll have to adjust everything else I assumed about you.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Not the Star Trek people, if you were curious. What about Real Housewives?” he offered and she shook her head again.

Suddenly, she felt like an outsider on the edge of society as she had around many of the staff tables at work where discussions of favoured television programs or things they read in frivolous magazines made her feel disconnected. In mid-2012, Mulder had stopped watching movies and enjoying the whimsical shows that he used to recite each line along with the actors. That should have been a bigger sign to her than it was now but hindsight was always 20/20.

“So Dana, is this your shooting day?” Tad asked as they walked out of the range and into the lobby.

Scully shook her head. “I don’t have that kind of schedule right now. Why?”

“I want to bump into you again but then work in a way for us to get something to drink afterwards,” he admitted with a laugh. He ran a hand along the side of his head through his hair and she saw the flush in his cheeks again. “I usually don’t feel like I’m so bad at this.”

Scully raised her eyebrows. “You’re still trying to pick me up?”

Tad nodded. “Dana, I thought it was obvious.”

She pulled her lips tight and looked down at her feet before looking back up to his face. “I think maybe we should bump into each other a few times before we socialize outside of this environment.”

“You can bring your gun if you want,” Tad offered and she chuffed. “That’s a maybe?”

“Maybe,” Scully replied but she she wasn’t sure which way she was going to decide. She left him in the lobby of the Brothers in Arms Shooting Range with mixed feelings, hoping this wouldn’t be a repeat experience.

As she drove herself back to her apartment, she thought about the conversation with Tad. She knew who Rob Kardashian Senior was but she had to google the shows Tad mentioned when she got home. Scully immediately closed the browser window and walked around her apartment feeling more out of touch than before. It wasn’t Mulder’s fault she didn’t watch reality television or keep up on gossip magazines. The information inside of them were less interesting to her the more she learned about the true conspiracies. Being interested in frivolity and pointless television wasn’t who she was.

The next time she ran into Tad at the gun range, he had pestered her in the lobby while she bought two dollar ear plugs to go under her ear muffs. He was persistent, she had to give him that.

“Doctor Dana Scully,” Tad greeted as she pulled her purchase from the small bin at the bottom of the vending machine. “Back on a Sunday. This is a blessed day.”

The line was eye-roll worthy but she found herself giving him a humouring smile.

“How are you today, Mr. O’Malley?” she asked.

“That tone makes me feel like I’m a patient,” he said with a grin and she raised a questioning eyebrow. He put up is hands. “I don’t mind. I’ve always had a thing for women in lab coats.”

“Mr. O’Malley-” she began in a disapproving tone.

“Tad,” he corrected her.

“Tad,” she repeated and glanced around the small lobby. “I’m not… interested in being pursued in a social scenario.”

“You have enough friends on your social calendar?” he asked.

She probably didn’t but she could tell that Tad was interested in more than just a friendship. “Not entirely.”

“Then what’s the harm in getting coffee, Dana?” he offered. “My treat. Just two people talking.”

It had been a long time since she had stopped for coffee with someone outside of her family. She didn’t quite understand the point of a friendship with someone who was completely outside her social, religious and professional circle.

“I can’t imagine we would have much to talk about,” she mused as they sat on the bench adjacent to the vending machine. “I’m not a Republican.”

Tad grinned. “Did you google me?”

“You said your name as though it was someone I should know of,” she explained as a slight pink took over her cheeks.

“I’m flattered,” he replied. “I guess being obnoxious worked.”

“I also googled Keeping Up With the Kardashians so don’t feel too flattered,” she replied dryly and he grinned at her. “What is your interest in me?”

Tad chuckled. “I admit to having a similar interest in your background.”

“I’m not a conspiracy theorist, Mr. O’Malley,” Scully corrected him as she stood up. “That’s my former partner.”

Thinking about Mulder was a hair-trigger with no warning. Her guard went up around anyone who brought up her former profession and partner. Occasionally, it came up at the hospital with veteran police officers or coroners who transferred in that knew her by her former job.

From the very beginning, Scully was used against Mulder as a tool to hurt a man who was hell-bent on the truth. She was his vice, his desperation and the only one who would ever believe him. Her belief in him was what kept him going. Scully eventually became part of that quest, a victim to a search for the truth and a thorn in the side of great men. When she left, she hoped they could stop being that for each other even if it meant a loneliness that hurt her beyond compare.

“If you are trying to get to him through me, you’re wasting your time,” she continued and wasn’t sure why she didn’t say husband. ”We’re not together anymore-”

Tad took her hand in his to stop her. “Hey. I’m not here to get to anyone, Dana. I saw you and wanted to get to know you better. Isn’t that the basis of how all men eventually approach a beautiful woman?”

Scully pressed her lips together. “Tad…”

“I’m attending a Conservatives for Clean Air Dinner in three weeks and I need a date that understands what I’m saying when I talk about fossil fuel emissions,” he said dryly. He took out a business card from the pocket of his high-priced pants. “I’d love it if I could go with someone who could carry a conversation and look great in a dress.”

Scully nodded as she took the card, her chin tucking down as she contemplated the offer.

Tad picked up the bag at his feet. “I hope to hear from you Dana.”

 

***** *****

 

While she had been determined to work through much of the problems she had with Mulder, at the moment she felt like there was nothing left but anger and frustration on both ends. When she left the gun range, she felt herself needing guidance. She had prayed, sought counsel and spoken to her priest after mass on Sunday evening.

Father Kelly was in training to take over from Father McCue in the coming years as his advancing age began to prevent him from leading the church. He was familiar with the Scully family, however Dana had spoken to him very little about their problems until recently. She was intensely private and sharing her failure as a wife was a hard thing to come to terms with.

She broke down in the confessional booth the morning after she moved from their house to her new apartment. He consoled her as best he could but just as she drew her strength, her faith in making the right choices had to come from within.

“Dana, I know you took the vows of your marriage seriously,” Father Kelly began from the other side of the partition. “You left your husband and are going through a separation…”

“Father…” she tried to interject.

“From the Church’s side of things, as a married woman who left her spouse, you’ll have to understand that you would be sought as the one to blame. You could still take communion,” he continued slowly. “You would still be welcome at our church but… from the Church’s standpoint-”

“I would be a woman of sin,” she finished. “We weren’t married by a Catholic priest.”

“Are you seeking permission and going to file paperwork to invalidate the marriage?” he asked her.

“No,” she answered quickly.

She didn’t want to annul her marriage to Mulder. An annulment erased it from her history with the church which would only be suitable for a regret. She only regretted not being able to pull him out from the ocean of his obsession. She couldn’t be a life raft to a man who wanted to drown.

“Have you spoken with your husband since you left him?” Father Kelly asked her through the partition in the confessional booth. “Is the desire to come home or are you choosing to end your marriage?”

Scully let out a long breath. “I called the house after I was almost mugged but there was no answer. I wanted… I tried for years to make it work. I don’t know if you know what he can be like… He’s difficult to convince of anything that isn’t his idea or something related to a conspiracy.”

The last part of the sentence tasted like vinegar on her tongue and she knew her bitterness was apparent. It wasn’t her desire to paint Mulder in a poor light but she was worn down by all they had gone through. She had to be to get to the point to leave him.

“Dana, it isn’t up to us to give up on those who need us most,” the priest advised. “I hope you hear me when I tell you that I can’t advise at this juncture for you to see another man socially or make a cuckold of your husband. You have to understand that.”

“I’m not asking permission to sleep with another man, Father,” Scully replied with a tone of disgust. “I wasn’t… I just miss myself. Who I was before I began working at the FBI.”

“Who was that?” he asked gently.

“I miss being Dana…” she said with a slight hiccup as tears dripped down her cheeks. “The woman who had a career she could be proud of, family and friends. There was so much light in my life then…”

“What did you have when you lived with him?” he asked her gently.

“Darkness,” she confessed as she used her tissue to wipe her nose. She held the business card Tad handed to her in her fingers as Father Kelly waited for her to continue. “He let it in and I don’t think he’s ready to let go of it.”

It had completely overwhelmed their life together. The utmost feeling between them was hurt - on his side for not being supported and on her side for being pushed away for this quest.

“You can continue to pray for him here and light candles,” he advised. “Pray for your own strength as we pray for your marriage to heal.”

That wasn’t the advice she wanted to hear. She wasn’t expecting much else from her priest, however she wasn’t expecting sole blame after he had let things crumble around them with his obsession into this conspiracy that proved to have not been true.

When she left, it was late March and after a long summer of feeling the longing for the company of another, she realized she didn’t want to continue to choose loneliness. She did that for seven years but it was an act of self-preservation. Once she let Mulder in, she didn’t want to have a life without him. As a woman alone, she had a harder time with her routine and solitude than she anticipated.

If she could be with Mulder, it wouldn’t be the man who shut her out, who called her names as she asked him to just step away from what he was searching for and see that he wasn’t himself anymore. She had few options except to move forward. She never thought she would choose this.

There had been no contact between them since she moved out. Two months into their separation, she called the house on a Thursday evening when she hoped he might be home and the phone rang until it disconnected. The answering machine had been shut off and he wouldn’t be returning her call any time soon.

It took two days of going back and forth before Scully called Tad from her work office with his business card in hand and her office mate pretending not to listen. She had been so frustrated and put off by the advice the priest had given her during her confessional that the petulant side of her personality, even at her age, wanted to rebel against it.

She was hurt by what she had gone through with Mulder. She felt broken and shattered. What she had done for the last year as he worked through his anger and depression was more than enough. She needed him to reach back.

The phone picked up after the second ring and a breathy voice answered, “Tad O’Malley’s phone.”

This had to be a joke. “This is Dana Scully-”

“Oh, Miss Scully,” the woman cut her off. “He’s been expecting your call.”

Scully opened her mouth to protest but she was put on hold immediately. The line clicked a few times until Tad greeted her.

“I thought she was joking,” he said when he picked up the line.

He was teasing her again as his form of flirting but she accepted it. “I thought you believed in everything.”

Tad chuckled. “Did you watch my show?”

“Just the last one with the scientist discussing GMOs,” Scully told him. “It was surprisingly insightful.”

“Does that mean you considered my offer to join me at the Conservatives for Clean Air dinner?” he asked and she hesitated to answer. It was a highly photographed event and she wasn’t sure how she felt being pictured as his date. “What about dinner, then? This weekend?”

She glanced at her schedule. “I have a light day on Friday…”

“Friday night?” he offered. “I could pick you up and take you someplace hip and trendy you’ve always wanted to try.”

“I’m not really impressed by such extravagances, Mr-”

“Oh just for that I’m taking you to Komi,” he cut her off and she let out a long breath through her nose. “Would you rather Marcel’s?”

“I don’t have a preference,” Scully replied because they were all too extravagant for a casual meeting. “I’ll be surprised if you can get a seat at either this late in the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” he offered and she agreed before hanging up the line.

Scully’s office mate, Dr. Amanda Maxwell, gave her a disapproving glare before leaving her in their shared space. The disapproval from that woman didn’t matter to her now. Dr. Maxwell was less than helpful through the years when her life felt as though it was falling apart. She learned to cry silently at her desk because the woman was more compassionate to the cadavers in the morgue versus the small human emotion of heartache.

It didn’t take long for Scully to feel like Dana again. She was able to remember what it was like to go on dates, to call people by their first names, to eat at nice places and have surface area conversations that no one called trite or boring. After twenty years of losing so much of herself for a quest towards the truth, Dana was out. Sometimes she wondered who was that person anymore but she was willing to give that woman a chance at happiness.

Before she left, she looked at Mulder with too much sadness and longing that he continually called her on it as he glanced up from a pile of newspaper clippings from green eyes that had seen her at her worst. If she went back to that house now, would he call himself Fox and be a better man with order and substance in his life? Would it be the same stacks of magazines on the stairs and resentment lingering in the air that the world didn’t end when he predicted? He stayed himself through all of what they went through and sought the truth that kept eluding them both. This version of himself wasn’t who she expected him to ever become and she could almost hear his voice saying he didn’t anticipate her being a quitter either.

It was hard when the voice in your head was the angry and bitter undertones of a man who used to make you quake with every touch. Sometimes that pursuit of the truth made her resent him the way he resented her goodness and purity towards wanting to be honest and right. Not all the disagreements and arguments between them were fair.

As she slipped the small belt into the fastening on her button up shirt dress and pulled her cream blazer over her shoulders, she wondered if she was too formally dressed. As she adjusted the fastening on her necklace to sit under the charcoal grey collar, she had the fleeting thought to cancel.

Her landline buzzed and Dana Scully steadied her nerves. It was just dinner.

“Hello?” she answered into the receiver.

“Tad O’Malley is here for you,” her doorman announced from his phone at his desk.

“I’ll be right down,” she told him.

“He has - ahem - something with him,” the doorman told her. “Can I send him up?”

The man probably bought flowers as a grand gesture of chivalry. Her uneasiness to their dinner intensified. “Um, yes.”

The line clicked off and she slipped on a pair of brown leather pumps as she waited for Tad to reach her floor. When he knocked, she felt her nerves fray further.

It had been a long time since Dana said yes to dinner out. Mulder wasn’t much for romance and show but he had made efforts over the years. This was entirely different. This gave her flashback jitters to her one date with Ed Jerse and that didn’t end entirely well for either of them.

“Dana,” he said as she opened the door. “You look amazing.”

He handed her a bouquet of pink peonies, soft yellow roses and white Calla lilies. It was feminine and understated but exactly what she would have picked if she went to the florist for herself.

“These are lovely,” she said as she took them from him. She glanced around as he stood on the edge of her apartment and opened the door further. “Would you like to come in while I put these in water?”

Tad entered her apartment and glanced around the space she had slowly been making her own. There was a print she purchased the week before sitting on the floor with a hammer and nail waiting to be hung and one box that had not been unpacked yet.

“Been here long?”

“Four months,” Scully said as she pulled a vase down from above the stove and began to fill it with water.

“The one box on the floor surprises me,” he called to her and she heard a tapping sound like a finger testing the drywall. “I thought that you would have been settled in here within the week.”

“Do I come off as someone who is that rigid and structured?” Scully asked as she unwrapped the bouquet.

_*Tap tap tap!*_

Scully walked out of the kitchen to see Tad putting a nail exactly where she had marked and hanging her picture.

“I can do more than just call out conspiracies online,” he quipped as he stepped back from the picture. He reached out to adjust it slightly so it was level. “You are a fan of Degas.”

“I think most women are,” she replied as she left him to finish the flowers.

He stood in her kitchen with his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. Mulder would have leaned against the doorway or the counter two inches too close to her.

Scully pushed the thought from her mind and brushed her hair back from her face with her index finger. She set the flowers in water and discarded the wrapping in the bin under the sink.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she said as she put them on her coffee table. “They really are lovely.”

“They seem to fit right in here,” he noted. He held his hand out to escort her. “Shall we? I thought I could spoil us with something overpriced from Komi.”

“I’ve never been,” she admitted.

“Well you’re in for a treat,” he announced as they stepped onto the elevator.

Scully thumbed the place on her left ring finger where her ring used to encircle and sighed as they rode down. She wasn’t cheating and this was just dinner. She hadn’t committed adultery or done anything yet that she should feel guilty about.

As they crossed the lobby, she noted that Tad O’Malley picked her up in a limo. Once inside, he handed her a glass and pointed to the chilled champagne that was waiting to be served.

“Because, why not,” he said as he popped the cork and poured her a glass.

This was an extravagance that she wasn’t used to and she sipped cautiously on the beverage as they rounded the corner of her block.

“You seem apprehensive tonight, Dana,” Tad noted. “Are you still cautious I’m looking to get to your former partner-”

“I’m not,” she interrupted. “I’m… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

Tad took a sip of his champagne. “I rarely do this so we can be inexperienced daters together.”

Scully tasted the sweet bubbles of the beverage slide down her throat. “I find that hard to believe.”

“When you’re in my line of work Dana, it’s hard to know who wants to know you or your power and money,” he explained. “I have rules about my life to protect myself but when I saw you, I had to talk to you. It’s been a long time since that’s happened to me but you’re a beautiful woman with a strong mind. I have my weaknesses.”

She felt her cheeks flush at the compliment. “I have been told I’m infuriatingly stubborn.”

“I never shy away from a challenge,” Tad replied.

She enjoyed the menu at Komi and before they finished their appetizers, he asked for a second date at 1789 or Marcel's. Both were equally as extravagant and pricy as their current dinner location. She surprised herself when she accepted. It wasn’t the extravagance or the money he was spending that night that enticed her. There was something about him.

In this version of her new life, Dana went on dates with a man with a funny first name but he didn’t correct her to call him by his surname. She wore dresses and heels out and had two glasses of wine at dinner. Thaddeus O'Malley- Tad to his friends- was, of all things she couldn't believe, a Republican. But when you're searching to be the opposite of who you're escaping, you allow semi-famous Republican commentators to court you sooner than the last man. Granted, the last man took four years before he even tried to kiss her and another two after that to finally plant one on her lips.  
   
Over the course of their meal, she allowed herself to enjoy the witty jokes he told and laugh along with him. They delighted in light political conversation without it leading to a global conspiracy that was dreamt up in the 60s by the American government. Tad definitely had his own theories about the government and ran a show dissecting everything but he kept some things separate. She had to appreciate that.

They discussed what was in the news without the dirty underbelly and wise-ass remarks about politicians. Tad knew most of them personally and he usually confirmed most of them were "good guys" who were "probably misquoted" but everyone in politics is full of themselves.

When he winked at her, at their private table, she felt charmed instead of sickened and she wondered if this was Dana enjoying herself or Scully. She let him hold doors for her and allowed a hand at her lower back. Chivalry wasn't dead and it didn't feel bad in its familiarities to the way she had grown accustomed after all the years with Mulder.  
   
Tad kissed her on the cheek after the first date when he walked her to the door of her building. He wished her good night and she walked upstairs to cry in her tub as she soothed the feelings of overwhelming guilt to have enjoyed a romantic evening with someone other than Mulder.

The following morning as she was getting ready for her run, she impulsively dialed the house number to see if he would answer. The phone clicked off after the second ring and she pounded her feet along the pavement for five miles to work through her anger at being rejected by Mulder before she even said hello.

The rejection she felt prompted her to call Tad and accept his invitation to the opera and dinner the following week.

It got entirely out of hand. It became easy to see him and talk to him. He talked about himself, his family and asked about hers. On their third date, when he took her to the opera and dinner, she told him she couldn't have children. Tad looked at her gently as he told her he was more of a dog person. She suspected he was lying. Men often started families in their forties and she pointed out if he found someone in her thirties, their children would graduate a year or two after he retired. Tad winced at the math.  
   
"I think I'm too old to start a family," he said, taking a sip of his $20 glass of whiskey in the lobby of the Kennedy Centre during intermission. "Women in their twenties and thirties are exhausting. I feel like their dad explaining items on the menu and they always have gum in their mouths. Anyway.... I wouldn't mind getting a dog eventually. No cats, though."  
   
"Why not a cat?" she asked, wondering if he even liked animals.  
   
"Oh, I'm allergic," he answered simply. "Something in the dander makes my throat close up."  
   
These were the kind of conversations she had to learn how to have again. It wasn't a patient's medical history or asking polite questions in the doctor's lounge to pass the time. This is what normal people did. She almost forgot that.

After the opera and dinner, Tad rode up in the elevator without an invitation. He walked her to her door and kissed her confidently on the lips. It surprised her again that she let him.

She opened her mouth to his and allowed him to thoroughly kiss her. What was even further surprising was that she enjoyed it. She wanted fresh air in her life from the darkness and musk of conspiracies. Tad felt like a summer breeze. Their exaggerated height difference made a kiss more challenging and when he lifted her slightly, she felt the length of his desire press into her stomach. She broke the kiss and covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

Sex wasn’t new to her. She wasn’t a prude or a virgin. She was a woman in her early fifties who had an active sexual life prior to the breakdown of her marriage. Yet the act of even kissing another man felt like a betrayal to Mulder and the vows they took.

“I should go,” he said as he panted against her.

She looked into his eyes and nodded. She wanted a man in her bed but she didn’t know herself enough right now to be sure if it was Tad or Mulder she longed for.

There was too much uncertainty to live a life as a woman she hadn’t been in over twenty years. Dana wasn’t someone she trusted completely and that scared her. This woman was too impulsive and reckless. Dana got a tattoo with a virtual stranger and let him bed her in his barely furnished apartment after too many drinks in her system.  
   
Dana didn't spend the last twenty years arguing and debating, searching and struggling. Dana quit the FBI after her first case with Spooky Fox Mulder, went back to being a doctor, married a nice man, had two kids and a chocolate lab. Dana's curiosity wasn't sparked from the moment she saw the slide show. She made her parents happy and her brother didn't call the romantic partners she had a sad, sorry son of a bitch. Dana had possibilities that Scully had lost. Eventually, she realized she missed being herself. She missed Scully. No matter how charmed she was by Tad and this life, it wasn't one she could live in.  
   
She realized she missed who Dana could have been, even if Dana wasn't a part of her anymore. She wanted them both to have fresh air and happiness and when she left, Mulder wasn't leaving the house at all. Even in the darkness that their home had become, he refused to believe he had gone too far.  
   
Was she just Scully now? This person she saw in Mulder's eyes who held her happiness and showed her the truth? If she thought about who Dana was, she wasn't that woman anymore. That woman was gone from her daily life and her overall identity. She came out of hiding for her mother and family when they needed her but when she thought of herself, it wasn't as Dana. She evolved from the girl with freckles and curious questions, who collected bugs and rocks in jars, to a woman on a search alongside a man with no first name.  
    
Dana was a book she hadn’t memorized every line from. It scared her that the woman with her first name was more foreign to her than the man she had shared a bed with and said vows to on a beach in the tropics.

Being Dana for a while meant being afraid in ways that excited her. She wasn’t sure how much adventure she could take but at the moment, she was happy to have it. The happiness was a foreign friend too and she welcomed it in.


	4. Reconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set September 2013

Since Dana Scully first met Tad O’Malley at the gun range, over two months had passed and she felt like she had experienced much of the life she missed while being secluded in Virginia. She didn’t wake up with a feeling of fear or dread at what the day would bring or how Mulder would react to the latest news cycle. It was late in the year and for the last six months, she put herself first. There was nothing more that she needed but time to repair herself from the brokenness she felt when she moved to Washington D.C.

In the six months since she left Mulder, there had been a confusing relationship brimming with Tad before Dana saw her husband again. Some events had transpired that prevented her from wanting to meet with the handsome Republican again but they were hardly to do with Mulder.

It wasn’t the most idealistic reason to see the man she spent the last twenty years with but it was a necessity. They were tied together in marriage and finances. Neither of these situations had been rectified since her absence in their marital bed and they were being called to deal with one aspect of it today.

The mortgage on the house was up for renewal and their financial advisor stipulated they meet for a conversation about the most basic of concepts: money. They were called individually about a joint meeting that needed to take place and she cleared her schedule for the afternoon to meet with Mulder and their new financial advisor.

On a rainy Wednesday morning in late September, she drove to Cradock Marine Bank where they had set up their joint accounts. Mulder had been dealing with them for years and somehow he convinced her to move her finances to the same bank after they returned from their trip to the Bahamas.

The night before their meeting at the bank, she was tossing and turning at their pending appointment. As she sipped from her travel cup of coffee on the drive, her body was dragging to wake up.

Scully didn’t see his vehicle nearby as she tried to find parking and she wondered if he took a taxi to get there. It would be a careless expense for a man without steady income but it wasn’t her place anymore to tell him how to spend his money. She wanted to admonish his lack of preparation but since he hadn’t answered a call, text or email since she moved out, she took the hint that she was hardly the person to lecture him on life decisions.

She felt dread, worry and fear but mostly she was unsure. The uneasiness and tension in her was now manifesting into a trapezius muscle that she was rubbing with her fingers repeatedly as she waited in the lobby. Mulder was sitting in a deep armchair near the receptionist desk with a mug in hand he had brought from home. She recognized the black and white paisley pattern from a set she picked out and it certainly didn’t belong to the establishment she was at. All of the visible mugs held by employees and sitting on desks said _Cradock Marine Bank: For Your Financial Needs._

Scully sat in the chair opposite to him in the lobby while she waited for the service associate to get off the phone and notice her.

“Do you want a little more coffee for your cup, Mr. Mulder?” the young woman asked sweetly from behind the receptionist desk.

Mulder had shaved that morning, dressed in a button down blue shirt and a pair of poorly pressed pants. He had dress shoes and a leather jacket on, a splash of cologne and the aftershave she bought him for their last anniversary. He had pushed his hair back from his face and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose as he looked over the folder in his lap.

He looked good.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said and cleared his throat. He looked over to Scully and she squared her shoulders a little as they made eye contact. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied quietly.

Scully took a deep breath and looked down at the paperwork she brought with her for their meeting. Mulder had been put on the mortgage in 2008 and given financial freedom over certain accounts in their joint name but they both had to sign for anything to do with the house.

In the last six months, he had ignored six of her phone calls, multiple text messages and five emails. If she wanted to feel rejected or hurt, she could count on his lack of interest in her communication to ensure she knew her words weren’t important to him.

She spent the morning deciding what to wear, what to say and how to behave towards him. As she dressed herself, she had come to the conclusion that she should mirror his behaviour and take it from there. When she arrived at the bank in her pressed grey suit, however, she only wanted to lash out at him for suddenly being a functioning member of society. Deep down, she wished she could make him understand how much he hurt her with his obsession into something that had been only rumour and nothing more.

There was a part of her that still wanted to crawl into his lap, find solace and comfort in his touch and smell the sweat on his neck if it meant she could just feel something familiar.

“Mr. and Mrs. Scully?” a smartly dressed man called out across the lobby.

“Mulder,” he said as he stood up.

The man looked at the file. “Oh, I see. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Mulder.”

No one had actually called her that since they got married and she felt her heart contract.

Mulder glanced in her direction but didn’t make eye contact. “Ready for us?”

“I’m Jeremy Reddy,” he said as he extended his hand towards Mulder and then Scully. “I’m glad we could all find a time to meet! Do you want a coffee or anything?”

Scully and Mulder shook their heads in unison. He held up his mug, “I brought my own.”

“Okay let’s head back to my office,” he said and began to lead the way.

Scully felt a familiar brush against her lower back and she looked at Mulder quickly as he cleared his throat again and tucked his hand into his pocket.

“Old habit,” he muttered as he glanced down at her.

It was harder than she anticipated to be around one another and not be together and that small exchange just proved it.

“I don’t mind,” she offered and immediately regretted it.

She saw a grin flinch across Mulder’s face before his expression went to a neutral gaze again. This would be so much harder than she expected. If she could read his face or his thoughts, she might think he was panicked but he seemed to be indifferent. His aloofness towards her now felt similar to the anger and callous nature he had towards her after returning from Antarctica. The man was so frustrated yet distant towards her that she spent much of their time under Kersh with an equal desire to slap his face or sit on it.

Jeremy stood in the doorway of his office and held his hand out for them to enter first. “Please, have a seat.”

She pushed the crude thoughts from her mind and sat down calmly on one of the chairs opposite Jeremy as Mulder sat down to her right. The only touch to bring her to a release in the last six months had been her own. The months leading up to her departure had been a lonely stretch as well.

Scully took a slow breath to focus herself in the moment and adjusted the jacket on her suit. “Thank you.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Mulder or can I call you Fox and Dana?” Jeremy asked with a grin as he logged onto his computer. “And do you have a valid drivers licence with you?”

“Dana is fine,” Scully agreed as she handed over her ID and waited for her estranged spouse to respond.

“I prefer… Just Mulder,” Mulder explained as he pulled out his own driver’s licence and Jeremy nodded. “Wouldn’t you, with a name like Fox?”

“Jeremy is my middle name,” their advisor explained as he double checked their information in his system. “My mother is German and her maiden name is Winter and my father is Indian. To try to keep some sort of heritage for both, I was named Winter Jeremy Reddy… I am right there with you.”

Mulder visibly relaxed. “I tried that in university but William was a pretty common name over there. It was so confusing and we just started calling each other by our last names.”

Scully was surprised at how much Mulder was sharing with this man but then again, he was usually better at small talk like this when surface information was the only thing being shared.

“Okay, now that we know what to call each other, I’m glad we could all sit down and talk about your finances,” Jeremy began. He pulled up a file on the computer and turned the screen towards them. “This is your mortgage, assets and investments as they stand-”

“What is that?” Scully asked as she pointed to the large lump sum of money under her name. It was a mutual fund she didn’t recognize or remember setting up at any time. “I never-”

“I did,” Mulder spoke up. “After… uh after I was cleared and got my finances sorted out. You didn’t notice a deposit of a few hundred dollars going into the joint chequing account every month?”

“I rarely use that account,” she said as she shook her head. “I was leaving it in case… I guess that’s not really necessary…”

She felt slightly sick. There was over half a million dollars sitting in an investment account in her name with an equal amount in Mulder’s. She had a pension through the FBI, an RRSP she started when she began working for Our Lady of Sorrows but this was a very large sum of money. There was a joint investment account with slightly more than their individual ones at the top of the screen and her arguments over frivolous spending on a taxi cab were suddenly gone.

“I realize now it would have been more prudent to have the interest go back into the investment but Mr. Mulder stipulated with my colleague that he wanted cash going towards you on a steady basis,” Jeremy spoke up. “We might want to change that to let the investment build a little more.”

“Sure thing,” Mulder agreed with Jeremy. The keyboard was noisy with activity while Scully thought everything over. “She’s got steady work now so that makes sense. I just want nothing locked in.”

“Of course, Mr. Mulder,” Jeremy assure him.

“Why… You never mentioned this when we got married,” she said quietly.

“I wanted you to be protected in case something happened,” he replied gently. “If something happened to me and it took a while for you to get what I had set aside… For your mom… or William…”

“Why did we mortgage a house when you could have paid it off regardless of a penalty?” she countered.

“Paying a mortgage is great for your credit,” Mulder replied. “You told me that when we were looking at places. You had been sort of off the grid for a while so I thought it was important for you…”

“I didn’t think you could buy the house with the money in your savings account,” she scoffed and looked at Jeremy apologetically. “I’m sorry. This is awkward.”

“Money usually is,” he said with a kind smile. “This is usually a conversation that happens when a life change occurs.”

“We’ve had that,” Mulder panned and Scully snapped her head to look at him as a flush took over her cheeks. “We recently separated.”

“Mulder-” she protested.

“It’s mostly my fault,” he continued as though she wasn’t there.

“Mulder,” she insisted.

“Are you here to take over the entirety of the mortgage?” Jeremy asked quizzically and Scully felt her heart sink further. “You qualify with your finances to be the sole title owner.”

“I’m the primary resident,” Mulder explained. “I’m happy to take it over in just my name if she wants to be off the title-”

“I don’t,” Scully cut him off and he finally looked at her with his intense green eyes. “It’s my house too.”

“What about your apartment?” Mulder asked.

“It’s a lease,” she reminded him. “The house…. it’s my home or… it was. I don’t… I’m not ready to leave that behind.”

“Well our interest rates right now are better than the last time you folks came in to meet with us,” Jeremy continued lightly. “I can get you a great rate, very competitive for the next five years.”

“Do it,” Scully told Jeremy and she looked at Mulder. “Okay?”

Mulder shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

His voice had the same disconnected tone he used with her before. Mulder’s indifference was clearly anger and hurt as well but she had been the one reaching out recently and heard nothing back.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk with us about?” Scully asked as she picked up her purse from the floor and set it on her lap.

Jeremy shook his head and handed them each a list of required documentation. “I’ll need updated income documents and what is on this list.”

Mulder glanced over the list and handed him the folder in his lap. “I had it ready in case I was going to take over the house in my name.”

“I brought some of this,” she replied and swallowed heavily. “I can have what’s not on here ready by tomorrow.”

“You can leave it with Tiffany at reception,” Jeremy said cautiously. “I’ll have to call you back in to sign all the documents… If you want it to be together or separate…”

“It was kind of a hike for me to get here,” Mulder admitted. “But I’ll come in whenever.”

“Where is your car?” she asked him quietly.

“I sold it,” Mulder replied flatly.

The used Jeep Wrangler was an impulse purchase after his freedom had been granted by the FBI. It worked well when he needed to get around but the two-door vehicle wasn’t exactly something she considered to be suitable for a man his age. Mulder had spent so long driving FBI-issued vehicles and then nothing that she felt like he earned to drive something that looked like a Lego car for a while if that was what he wanted. She always pictured him in something sleeker like a BMW but his tastes never quite made sense to her.

“I can take you to get a new one,” she offered. “You have the money-”

“I don’t need a car,” he cut her off.

Scully looked down at her lap and realized this wasn’t going how she hoped. He was agreeable to her staying on the house but spending any time with her beyond these appointments was clearly not on his wish list.

“Okay.”

Jeremy cleared his throat. “I have an appointment next week that should work.”

“I’ll make myself available,” Scully said as she stood up. “Thank you.”

As she exited the office and made her way towards the receptionist desk, the anger and frustration she had felt bubbled inside her. She willed herself to calm down. She wouldn’t cry about him in public, especially in a bank of all places.

Mulder caught up with her as she reached the desk.

“Scully…” Mulder called after her.

It was a mistake to think she should stay on the mortgage like it would suddenly change his anger or indifference towards her. It wouldn’t erase the last year of their lives when things took a swift downturn or hide the fact that she had recently been spending time with another man that wasn’t her husband.

She had been wrestling with so many different levels of guilt on that last part that she could hardly stand herself. Dana Scully wasn’t a cheater. Even entertaining the idea of another man in her life while she was still married was absurd but the way her life had spiralled apart wasn’t exactly what she envisioned for herself either.

What she would classify Tad as these days was more of a confusing friendship. His interest in her seemed to flirt with more than romantic however when they attended the Conservatives for Clean Air dinner, he introduced her as an associate versus his date.

Mulder was so possessive that he laid a claim on her before he ever kissed her. Tad was an entirely different person she wasn’t sure she wanted to get to know better. Every time she felt herself relax around him, her guard went up that his intentions might not be entirely sincere. It had put a stop to his hands on her body when he kissed her good night after their last dinner and prevented her from returning any of his phone calls since then.

“Dana,” Mulder said louder. “Dammit, would you stop for a second?”

Scully placed her purse on the counter at reception as she adjusted her suit jacket. “Did you have another bomb to drop in my lap?”

“Money isn’t a bomb,” he panned. “You should just say think you like anyone else might in this scenario.”

“Mulder, not every woman wants to be given over half a million dollars without her consent,” she admonished as she dropped her voice to a whisper.

“Speak for yourself, honey,” the receptionist scoffed.

“It’s technically about one point two million dollars with the joint investment,” Mulder muttered.

The receptionist whistled in appreciation. Scully gave the young woman a disapproving look before she took her purse and left them both in the lobby of the bank.

“Dana!” Mulder called again as he ran out the door after her and she turned on the steps of the bank to look up at him. He caught up to her quickly and shook his head in frustration. “It’s just money.”

“Don’t you want it back now since you clearly don’t care to spend any time with me?” she asked. “You were ready to take my name off the house.”

Mulder pulled a paper from under his arm and handed it to her. The society page was open with a photo from the Clean Air dinner. She was smiling as she held a glass of champagne as she stood with a group of similar minded individuals to herself that she hadn’t expected when she arrived that night. It had been taken while Tad had just told a punchline to a tasteful joke.

“That’s why.”

Her heart sank again. The caption read, “Tad O’Malley and friends (UNKNOWN) enjoy a light evening for the sake of the environment.”

“Mulder-” she started.

“Is this why you’re not at home on Friday nights?” Mulder asked. “I mean, I thought it would take a little longer to get over what we had but it’s not like I was just some guy-”

“I’m not-” she cut him off and shook her head. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“What’s this?” Mulder pointed at the paper. “This wasn’t slipped under my door like a forgery to send me down a path I can’t come back from. I got it at a coffee shop in town and almost had a heart attack. At my age, that’s a lot more likely to happen from shock.”

“Is this why you haven’t answered my calls?” she asked him.

Mulder shifted his weight and lowered his face down to hers. “You left me.”

“I’ve wanted…” she stopped the sentence before she could finish it. She looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Scully took a wavering breath and licked her upper lip as her eyes searched the pavement under her shoes for answers that it wouldn’t provide.

“Don’t do that,” he ordered her tersely and she glanced up at his face. His pupils were dilated and focused on her mouth. Her teeth captured her lower lip and he took a long breath. “Scully…”

“I’m not doing anything,” she defended but she could feel that just their proximity was something. She lowered her chin and took another steadying breath. “I’m sorry you had to see-”

“I have some apologies of my own to make,” he cut her off and when she glanced up to see him, he was looking back at her kindly. “Not just about the way I acted but my… I have my own forgiveness to ask for. I think it would be good if we sat down and had a talk.”

He seemed so different than the last time she saw him. His eyes were clear and focused on her. While he wasn’t back to his former fighting weight, he had been taking better care of himself than he had been when his obsessions and paranoia drove her from their house.

“Coffee?” she offered and glanced at her watch. “It’s a little early for lunch.”

“There’s that cafe around the corner…” Mulder began.

There were a lot of their usual haunting grounds in this neighbourhood that she had avoided until now. Every place they used to frequent that she went since she left had been triggering. She could picture how he would run his finger up her back as they waited to place their order at Au Bon Pain on Pennsylvania Avenue. She still felt his fingers as he tickled her knees while they discussed case notes at the New World Cafe. When she walked into Esprinto, she could still hear his voice as he whispered in her ear how much he wanted her right there. She couldn’t even stop in to Lincoln’s Waffle House to get breakfast to go because of the numerous times they frequented there after making love.

She should have moved across the country to forget about him but California had not felt like home in far too long. Maybe it felt foreign when her youth pastor was shot or maybe it was when she had started to see home wherever he was but either way, she stayed on the East coast because of him. That much had always been true.

“A cafe?” she repeated.

“Coffee,” he said simply.

“I could use a coffee,” she said breathily.

“Then let’s get you a coffee,” Mulder said with a tone that went straight to her belly.

If he was still reading her mind, he knew exactly what she had a craving for and it wasn’t the chocolate pastries they sold at Compass Coffee on F Street. Coffee or a flaky pastry could be the pseudonym for sex at this point but they weren’t going to put that out on the table right now.

“Okay,” she agreed.

Mulder looked around the sloshy city that was damp with an early fall rain and pulled a small umbrella from his jacket pocket. As the wire spindles opened to a much larger brolly than she expected, he grinned down at her.

“What?” he questioned with a shrug. “You never shop on Amazon? They have everything.”

“I love Amazon,” she said quietly as she tucked herself next to him under the parasol. “I didn’t realize you went on there.”

“I like the internet,” he said lightly as they rounded the corner to the cafe. “Who needs a car when Amazon delivers everything to your door?”

“What about your mug, Mulder?” she asked as she glanced down at the cup in his hand.

He looked at her with his ‘what can you do’ face and shrugged. “Maybe they’ll serve me in my own cup and I can save ten cents on my overpriced latte.”

When they entered the small establishment, there were few people waiting in line and they joined the queue. As she looked over the board to decide what she wanted, she could feel his eyes studying her.

“Do you know what you want?” she asked as she glanced up at him.

“Yes,” he said clearly.

She looked up at him and saw in his eyes a familiar look but this wasn’t the time to sink onto her knees and comply. “I mean for a drink.”

She wasn’t sure how she got herself feeling fluttery in the middle of a cafe while the details of their finances were being sorted out and they both were walking around without their wedding rings.

“That too,” he replied, his voice laden with innuendo.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll have a half sweet toffee nut Ameri-”

“Americano misto,” Mulder cut her off. “I remember. Where are you going?”

“I need to use the ladies room,” she said quietly. “I figured since you were so rich, you could buy me a cup.”

“Ha ha,” he replied sarcastically and she grinned a little as she walked away.

As she entered the bathroom, she wondered if she must have been feeling less angry than she initially realized. Mostly, it was just shock. She didn’t know herself well enough to decide anything one way or another these days. She had chosen the paintings and furniture in her apartment but if she was asked how she felt about her own heart, she wouldn’t be able to decide.

Inside the bathroom as she washed her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt as lost and lonely as she had when she left California to set out on her own and define her life the way she truly saw it.

The last two months had been miles off target from what she had anticipated for her life at this point. After the opera, Scully sat across from Tad at dinner and looked at him with a detachment she knew she shouldn’t be feeling on a third date. She was looking at him with interest but more for who he was as an individual than a potential lover. It didn’t make sense to her why she kissed him and she felt the guilt from that action carry with her for weeks afterwards.

If she was comparing things with Mulder, she thought about how on their third date, she could hardly contain her giddiness to finally be in something with him that meant so much more than anything she experienced in her entire life. Mulder kissed her on New Year’s and it all sort of came to blows when they were forced to take a train from St. Louis to Washington after a long case. That felt like a lifetime ago.

So much had changed in her life since then but ultimately, she should still be the same person. She wasn’t the woman who cheated or lied. She chose to walk away from the potential-affair with Daniel to keep herself from being the mistress in a man’s marriage. She respected him and the institution of vows far too much to take it to the next level. In her entire life, she had felt so strongly about why the bonds of marriage were sacred. What was she doing with that man besides betraying the husband she walked out on?

It wasn’t enough that they were estranged and he wouldn’t answer her calls or reach back. She had to make an effort with Mulder or ask for a divorce.

When she realized that she didn’t want one, then she knew her heart wasn’t going to be free to be with anyone else. It made her hate Mulder a little bit because she ultimately wanted him but not the version of him she had grown to resent.

When she went to the Clean Air dinner, she had insisted on meeting Tad there. He must have sensed a change in her feelings because he kept his hand lightly on her waist in posed pictures and referred to her as his associate. If they were anything that night, it was on awkward terms and she left the event before him after he lamely asked her to stay. She compromised and took his car instead of calling a cab and kissed his cheek goodbye.

Scully wiped at the edges of her mouth and applied a fresh treatment of lipstick to her lips. She ran her fingers through her hair and decided she was going to look how she usually did but she could try to relax a little. A small bottle of Motrin in her bag might be necessary to dive into if the tension in her shoulder persisted.

She told herself to get a glass of water with her coffee and found Mulder sitting at a corner booth in the centre island of tables. It was the least crowded she had seen it there in a while but maybe it was the time of year with a lot of the normal patrons back at school.

Mulder was blowing on the foam they had served to him in his mug and he held it up proudly to her. She slid into the bench next to him and her knees brushed against his as she adjusted her position.

“So,” he began as he slid her cup and a plate with a chocolate croissant towards her on the table.

“So,” she repeated as her fingers wrapped around the paper cup her drink was served in. She opened the lid to let the steam escape and glanced around the cafe for the water station.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“I needed some water,” she explained. “I have a headache.”

Mulder held up a finger and left the table carefully to return with two glasses of ice water. When he sat down, he looked at her expectantly. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “Are you?”

“Frankly, I’m not but I want to be,” he said. He put the newspaper on the table between their cups and tapped it with his finger. “What is this?”

“I was invited by someone I know socially,” she said lightly as she searched for reasons to be there besides Tad. “There were other doctors from work there.”

That was true but also not the point. Scully was honest usually to a fault and he had to know she was lying.

“You’re not a Republican,” he pointed out.

“No, I’m not,” she agreed. “Mulder…”

“I’m not here to ask you what you’ve been doing with your free time but if you’ve converted to some form of weird Republican nonsense political views since you left-”

“Mulder,” she cut him off. “I’m still a Democrat.”

“Then what the hell are you doing at this dinner?” he asked. “Are you seeing someone else? This guy?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Not… no.”

“I know you left and I’m an asshole because I pushed you out but-”

“Mulder,” she cut him off.

“Scully… we said vows,” he said quietly.

“Mulder, I didn’t-” she began and looked around the space if anyone was listening. “I didn’t sleep with him or anyone else.”

“I’m pretty sure that the vows we took didn’t include being wined and dined by conservative poster boys for conspiracy theory shows,” he panned. “Or is that your type? Crazy but still a functioning member of society?”

She squared her shoulders and placed her hands into her lap as she said acerbically, “I suppose if he dropped over a million dollars into my name without telling me-”

“Hey,” he cut her off. “I did that for you.”

“It felt like another thing you did behind my back because you didn’t trust me,” she replied. “I wouldn’t have married you for money or stayed for money, Mulder.”

“I know… Believe me, you’re the last person I would ever think I would be able to buy their loyalty or affection,” he acknowledged honestly. His eyes searched hers for answers and she hoped he saw them in there. His hand reached under the table to brush against her knee. “Scully… I know what I said when you left-”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she interrupted him as she held up her hands defensively. “I think we both have regrets.”

“What are you doing with these people?” he asked.

“It was a social engagement,” she promised. “One I’m not looking to repeat any time in the future.”

She meant that. She realized that she would rather be alone than with anyone who barely measured up to Mulder. It was a curse of falling in love and not being able to extract herself from a man that did more for her mentally, physically and emotionally than anyone else in her life. It was a blessing and a curse.

“I’ll believe that when I stop seeing your face in the society pages, Scully,” he said glibly.

“That’s fair,” she replied.

“I want you to know I haven’t stopped searching for answers,” Mulder said earnestly as he reached around their drinks and pulled her hands under the table with his. “I know there is something coming. I can’t explain it but I just feel like… what if the Smoking Man is involved?”

“He’s dead,” Scully said firmly but her insides were feeling pursuasive to his touch.

She missed his tactile nature. There was so much of her that longed to be hugged and touched by him and she felt herself regretting the last six months of zero contact. When she left, it was because she couldn’t be in a home that was filled with the darkness he was consumed by. Now, looking into his eyes, she saw a light that had gone out earlier that year.

“I just… I can’t keep doing this alone.”

He told her that once before too and she knew she couldn’t leave him then either. Scully licked her lower lip and pulled one hand from his to bring her coffee to her mouth. Carefully, she took a sip of her coffee and replaced the lid on the paper cup. As she smoothed her fingers along the wooden table top, she said diplomatically, “I can’t look into that anymore.”

Mulder ran a hand across his mouth and the sound of a low growl came from his stomach. “Well.”

She looked down at his abdomen. “Did you skip breakfast?”

“Not at all,” Mulder said with a shake of his head and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I ran six miles this morning after a good sized breakfast but that wasn’t enough.”

Scully pulled her watch into view. “It’s almost noon.”

“Oh then it’s definitely time I ate,” he replied with a grin.

  
*** *** ***

The elevator dinged with each pass of the floor up to Scully’s apartment but the only thing she could think of that moment was the feeling of Mulder’s urgent erection pressing into her thigh as he kissed her with the fervent passion of being apart for too long.

One of his hands thread his fingers familiarly through her hair while the other had slipped inside the V of her jacket to palm her breast. He was holding her against the wall of the car with his breath filling her lungs and his tongue exploring her mouth. She felt alive for the first time in maybe a year and her sex was throbbing in anticipation at his touch. They had barely made it from the restaurant to the cab and into a private space before they were pulling at each other’s clothing and tasting the sweet familiarity of their tongues.

What were they doing? Her mind screamed as he ground himself at her centre and she felt a burst of excitement rush through her body.

Her body felt hot and she wanted to scratch at his skin as his mouth continued to explore hers. She was grasping at his leather jacket and Mulder broke the kiss to sink his teeth into the flesh on her neck. The man was marking her the second he could and as much as she hated covering up the marks his mouth would leave behind, her nerves were on fire as he licked and tasted the skin across her collarbone.

He took her mouth again with his as the elevator car stopped at her floor. The doors opened but their kiss remained paramount. His tongue massaged hers and she could taste the spicy sauce from his lunch but the underlying flavour was all Mulder.

His hand left her hair and moved down to her backside as he gripped her flesh through her sensible suit. She wanted to feel him underneath the layers of clothing separating them, to feel him push and stretch her flesh with his. She longed for the pain of the first push inside and all they had done yet was kiss.

The elevator car dinged its arrival again at her floor and she barely managed to pull her mouth from his to tell him to stop.

“Wait,” she breathed as he pressed his mouth against her cheek. “My floor.”

Mulder grunted and turned his face slowly towards the doors as they opened again. “Right.”

“If we get inside-” she said breathlessly.

“I can get inside too?” Mulder guessed as he looked back at her with a grin that made the ache inside her deepen.

It was a grin he gave her before pulling her panties down and taking her mind off the weight of the world while they hid from authorities. When he gave her that grin, she knew her troubles would have to take a backseat to the talents of his hands and mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered and he stepped back from her long enough to push her through the elevator car door and into the hallway towards her front door.

As she pulled the keys from her purse, Mulder pressed himself against her backside, ran his hands up her jacket and began opening each button, one by one. His hands were quick to palm each breast as he thrust against her backside and she moaned loudly as her forehead dropped back to the door. Mulder repeated the action and her key finally found its way into the lock.

“I thought waiting to get inside you was agonizing,” he quipped as his hand left her breast and opened the door.

She scoffed but her break in emotion was brief. Mulder had her against the door inside her apartment while his mouth covered hers and his hands pulled at every piece of her clothing. The kiss broke as her jacket left her body and fell to her feet. His hands made quick work of her pants next and she left her heels on to kick the material aside. When he pulled the camisole over her head, he tossed it over his shoulder and it landed somewhere close to her couch.

Mulder stood in front of her with his jacket and pressed shirt on and his raging erection filling out the front of his suit trousers. He looked hungry and dangerous in all the ways she appreciated about him. His eyes were wild with desire and she knew that this was going to be the kind of experience she felt for the rest of the week.

“I want you,” he said as his eyes took in the sight of her in her pale pink bra and panties set.

The pad of his index finger ran down from the strap to the lacy overlay to the cup of her bra towards the centre clasp and then down her abdomen towards the top hem of her underwear.

Scully whimpered as he put the tip of his finger under the waistband and tugged the lacy undergarment down her hips.

“I missed looking at you,” he said honestly and dropped his jacket from his shoulders before dropping to his knees. Mulder pressed his face into the front of her panties and breathed in. “I missed the way you smell.”

“Mulder-”

“I did,” he admitted as he looked up at her. “I pressed my face into your pillow to try to remember how your perfume smelled on everything. I think it was easier when I was travelling around the States and looking for answers about those super soldiers. I didn’t have anything of yours to remind me of you. I should have stolen a sweater or your night shirt.”

“You told me you were lonely then,” she reminded him.

“It was nothing like the last six months,” he countered as he looked back at her abdomen in front of him. “I knew more about what I was missing this time.”

“Mulder-” she began but her voice caught in her throat as he kissed the apex of her thighs next to where she really wanted his mouth.

He pulled on the waistband of her underwear until they were falling to the floor at her feet and he put one calf over his shoulder. His tongue slipped between her folds and found her bundle of nerves quickly.

“God!” she cried and her eyes closed as the overwhelming emotions and sensations began to take over her body.

Mulder hummed against her slick folds, slowly brought his hand up to where he was tasting her and pushed his finger inside her swollen walls.

“Oh god!” she cried out again.

The lone knee that was holding her weight was about to give out but she didn’t want Mulder to stop. Her mind was focusing on the sensations her body was feeling as he began to quickly lap at her centre while his finger crooked forward in search of her elusive G-Spot.

She could see his plan laid out in her mind. He was going to make her come hard and so intensely that she would be pliant and agreeable. Mulder was generous in every way as a lover and his determination to make sure she was satisfied was parallel to his search for the truth. He was relentless as much as he was selfless.

It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. Mulder cared for the humanity on a planet that would no sooner ignore his absence than mourn it. It was heartbreaking to see a man put forth his efforts to be validated time and time again.

When they worked together as partners, he found that endorsement through her science. When they became lovers, there was no need for him to feel inadequate. The man measured up in every single way she could have asked for.

“Muh-” she tried but her voice caught in her throat while her one free hand held the door handle for balance.

Her inner walls began to swell and she felt the sensitive nerves begin to ache for his attention. She tilted her hips slightly and his tongue came into contact with the inner folds that longed to be tasted. Her hips twitched as he pushed his tongue against her and she shuddered as a slow release took over her body. It washed over her again and again as he continued to flex his tongue along her sex and she felt a rush of fluid flow from her. She was so desperate to be possessed by him but she wanted to ride out every orgasm before he had her completely.

Mulder wouldn’t stop at this but she knew him well enough that he wouldn’t push her now. The man was territorial. He would want to make her come and have her on as many locations in her apartment as possible. Scully imagined them tangled in the sheets for an hour or two before they had to face the hard realities of the world.

This was only the beginning of what was to occur and she knew that much.

As his hand moved down her thigh from her sex and his mouth moved across her pelvis to her hip, she pulled her leg from over his shoulder to rest her foot on the floor. She didn’t feel much steadier but she had both feet on the ground.

Mulder wiped his mouth with the edge of his thumb and grinned up at her. He put his hands on either side of her body as he stood up from the floor and kissed the edge of her mouth. His left hand brushed slowly up her belly and towards her breasts where he reached the clasp on the front of her bra.

She was in her heels and a lacy pink bra, feeling like she was about to explode from the urgent need for his body to envelope hers when suddenly he stopped and stepped back.

She took a heavy breath. “What?”

“I can’t do this,” he said with a shake of his head.

“You look like you can,” she countered as she glanced down at his cock straining in his pants. She was holding the door with her knuckles white with anticipation and the other went to her mouth as she wiped at the edges of her lips.

“I need to know…” he began and adjusted himself in his trousers. “Fuck…”

“Don’t do that if you’re about to make ultimatums,” she said breathlessly as her eyes moved from watching his face to the hand holding his cock. She licked her upper and lower lip and pushed herself off the door. “That’s not fair either.”

“Scully,” he said as a warning and took a step back from her as she walked forward in her heels and bra. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” she replied quietly. “Like a heart attack.”

“I can’t control myself around you,” he told her. “I want you too badly.”

“Good,” she said as his knees hit the back of the couch. She continued her slow approach towards him, feeling predatory and wanton. “I don’t want you to control yourself.”

“I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have touched you earlier, Scully,” Mulder tried to explain. “I missed you but… you-”

“I want you,” she said as she reached him and her fingers undid the clasp of her bra. “I missed you too.”

Mulder looked down at her breasts and gulped loudly as she made quick work of his belt. “You left…”

The slice of the zipper in one sharp motion was harsh against the silence of the room and she slid both hands inside his trousers. Each palm and ten fingers wrapped around the length of him and he let out a guttural moan.

“Scully,” he sighed.

“Better than when you do it?” she asked coquettishly and he swallowed with an emphatic nod. She gave his hardened flesh a squeeze. “I know the feeling.”

Her hands regretfully left his cock to begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to strip him down and taste him the way he had tasted her. She pushed his pants over his hips and they fell to the floor as she knelt down in front of him. Never mind that she was still in her heels, his shirt was hanging open and his shoes were still on his feet, she was about to take him in her mouth for all it was worth.

It was a funny thing to miss about being with another person but in their relationship, there was always give and take. Scully wanted him in her mouth as much as she wanted him between her thighs.

The outline of his cock was inches from her face and she looked up at him with a grin as she pulled the waistband on his boxer briefs carefully over his member.

Mulder grabbed her wrists and pulled them up between their bodies for her to stand. Scully gasped as he gripped her harder than necessary and his face was inches from hers.

“Scully,” he warned her emphatically.

“I have needs too,” she reminded him as she pushed herself against his flesh.

His face showed the struggle he had to maintain his control. “What does this mean for us? I can’t… I can’t just sleep with you.”

“It wouldn’t be that,” she replied. “This isn’t just sex for me.”

Mulder took a deciding breath and his lips brushed against hers. She whimpered as his mouth captured hers again and she tasted the familiar flavour of her own desire on his tongue.

He broke the kiss and shook his head. “We can’t…”

“I never stopped loving you, Mulder,” she sighed against him. “I never fell out of love. I felt hurt… I felt like you stopped caring about me and our future together.”

“Scully no… I still love you,” he told her as he gripped her wrists a little tighter.

“Then show me,” she whispered challengingly.

His mouth covered hers again while his hands left her wrists and pulled her body flush to his. He was hard and twitching against her belly. She had been stopped from tasting his flesh on her tongue and she was determined to hear him breathe her name while she took him all the way into the back of her throat. That desire would have to go unfulfilled because Mulder was releasing her from his grip, turning her around and spinning them so her hands were gripping the back of the couch.

She heard him shuffling behind her as he kicked off his shoes, his pants and underwear. He held her steady with one hand and glanced down at the pointed Jimmy Choos on her feet.

“We’re dressed appropriately,” he quipped as he rubbed the head of his cock against her swollen folds.

Scully spread her feet a little wider and arched her back as she looked over her shoulder. “Didn’t we do this once before like this at work?”

Mulder thought for a moment. “Against a desk? You weren’t this naked.”

Scully tried to recall back to that moment but memory escaped her mind as soon as he began to push inside her. This wasn’t soft and forgiving sex. They would find their way back to one another with something rough and animalistic their first time. Maybe if they made it to a bed, it could be more tender but right now, there was something else to work through. Anger and resentment lingered in the space between them and it was all coming to blows as he pushed inside with one hard thrust.

“ _Gah_!” she cried out.

Not the most sexy of noises she was known to make but his forceful act surprised her. Mulder rocked against her backside for only a moment, as she streched for his girth and length, before retreating and repeating the motion.

“ _Ah!_ ”

“I can’t be gentle right now,” he said in a low growl as he began a hard and steady pace of fucking her.

“Oh…oh god,” she whimpered. She didn’t want something soft and tender at this moment. “Don’t… don’t be…”

His hips were slapping against her backside with each forward motion and she could feel the head of his cock reaching up deep inside. She needed to feel another orgasm wash over her while he did this to connect it to her own desires and not just let him get out some anger that he was obviously working through.

Scully put her left hand on the cushion halfway across her body and used her right had to find the slickness at her sex. She pushed the pad of her finger roughly across her clit and her inner walls trembled.

“Fuck, that’s unfair,” Mulder growled as he paused inside her. “You get so tight.”

She gripped the cushion tighter and Mulder slowed his pace while they began to enjoy the mutual benefits of her pleasure.

“What’s…unfair… about… it?” she asked as her words were punctuated by each thrust.

“Nothing feels as good as you do,” he said as he rocked his hips against hers.

It wouldn’t be long with the overwhelming sensations of her own touch and him inside her to find release. She hoped they might find it together but she was appreciating the tenacity of his actions right now.

He was sliding into her hard and fast while the temperature of their bodies rose from their exertion in her living room. She didn’t know if she would be able to stand at that spot again and not think about what he did to her there. Before she left, she found herself occasionally looking at the kitchen table in longing for the love they made on that surface rather try to figure out what to make for supper.

If they ever felt distant from one another, the sex they shared brought them back to some middle ground. It seemed to be an equalizer once their work stopped being the thing they had in common and they were two people sharing a home instead of a quest.

“Come on,” Mulder urged her as his pace picked up.

She was nearing the precipice of her release. Her sex swelled just a little more and suddenly she felt herself falling over the edge into the abyss of what could only be described as one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

“Fuck!” Mulder cried out as she felt herself getting tighter and tighter.

Her eyes closed and her jaw dropped as she felt her insides clench and throb. It was almost too much but she kept moving her hand across her clit. She needed this release to take the wind out of her and fry every nerve ending.

It was the first time in almost a year that she felt true passion from Mulder and she was elated that he wasn’t complacent for something quick and effortless. He was ensuring this was good for both of them, even with his rough approach.

She finally moved her hand from her sex and moaned as she grabbed the back cushion of the couch. “Jesus, Mulder…”

“Yes?” he quipped as he kissed the side of her head.

“I’m… I feel like I need to sit down,” she managed.

When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Mulder observing her pristine apartment, the light grey couches and then focusing on a leather armchair she had picked out because it reminded her of Mulder’s old leather couch.

“You wanna sit on that?” he asked as he nodded at the chair.

The leather chair sat next to an end table with a box of tissues, remotes and a picture of Scully and Mulder on the beach. She didn’t understand why she displayed a picture taken hours after their wedding in the Bahamas but she had put it out after her last encounter with O’Malley. She needed a reminder of what she really wanted. In the end, it would always be Mulder.

She wondered why he hadn’t pulled out of her and thrown her over his shoulder to take her into the bedroom but she realized that a man who had been rejected so much in his lifetime, after she left him, wouldn’t do that. If she was going to have him in a bed, it would have to be on her invitation. As much as she wanted him, taking him into her bed might change too much for them, especially when they still had a lot to work through.

That probably meant she shouldn’t be leading him across the living room and climbing onto his lap while their marriage was still on such uncertain terms but she wasn’t ready to stop everything now.

She brought his hands up into view and undid the buttons on his sleeves. She pushed the garment off his shoulders and sat him down on the chair. Mulder pressed his face into her belly and placed an open mouth kiss below her navel.

“I miss everything about you,” he murmured as her hands played with his hair.

He took a deep breath and lapped at her skin. She pulled his head back and looked down into his eyes. She lessened the distance between them as she stepped out of her shoes and there was a slight shift in the air. Her hands cupped his face and he looked at her as though he was seeing all of her. The lies about Tad, the kisses they shared and any moment her heart strayed from thinking of Mulder.

Her knees made contact with the cool leather on either side of his hips as she kissed his lips softly and positioned herself above him.

“Do you remember what we said to each other when we started all this?” he asked quietly.

“There were still answers we both need,” she whispered. “I wasn’t going to be your yes-man just because of sex.”

“I wasn’t anticipating any personality changes,” he repeated himself from a vow he made on a train car on their way back to Washington. “I shouldn’t have expected you to try to pull me from the darkness when I looked too deeply.”

Her chin clenched and she kissed him softly. Mulder placed a hand on her waist and pulled her towards his body. Her breasts were under his chin and then slid down his chest as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

“God you feel good,” he sighed as she settled herself on his thighs with his member buried to the hilt.

Scully hummed in appreciation as he kissed her and she felt herself relax around him. A slow and steady rhythm of their hips on the chair began to work towards their mutual release. Her hand slipped between their bodies and her pace never faltered as she began to work her bundle of nerves into a frenzy. Her hips continued a steady downstroke and a slight angle forward on the upstroke. Mulder groaned as she paused a the top before sliding down again on him.

“Scully-” he started as his fingers dug into her waist a little harder.

Her head dropped back and she looked up to the ceiling as she tried to concentrate on everything inside of her. She wanted to find her release again but this one was escaping her. She moaned as her eyes closed and bit her lip at her frustration over not being able to come.

“Dana,” he said more sternly and she closed her eyes briefly before focusing on him.

“What?”

“Kiss me,” he urged her.

Her mouth covered his and they shared a long and passionate kiss that brought her release closer. His kisses trailed along her jawbone and down to her neck where she felt a surge of excitement. Her hand began to move in unison with her hips at his silent instruction with a push of his fingers into her sides.

“Oh!” she cried out as the waves of her orgasm began to wash over her. “God! Oh my god!”

Mulder grunted and groaned loudly as he began his own tumble into the cavern of his release. His mouth captured her nipple and he sucked on her hardened nub as he shot into her and he sighed against her breast as he finished.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she agreed quietly.

“I mean…” he began but the words were obviously escaping him.

She kissed his hairline and ran her fingers tenderly through his hair as his member twitched inside her. Eventually, she looked into his eyes and they both smiled hesitantly.

“What now?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she questioned.

“I mean… things have worked better for us when you’re the driver-”

“Mulder,” she protested.

“I mean it,” he cut her off. “When I was the driving force, I got us on a most wanted list and lost you after finally getting my freedom.”

She had always felt in their relationship that they had been partners, on equal footing. Looking back on the years after his release from the FBI’s wanted list, if she was being honest with herself, Mulder took her lead on much of what became their home life. He deferred to her because he admitted his childhood nor his parents marriage wasn’t one to emulate. When they had a fight, if she insisted on space or time away from him, he tried not to push. He had instincts that worked well for them in romantic parts of their life but he fell back and allowed her to determine the household chores or whether or not they would visit family at the holidays.

“I thought you resented when I took control,” she admitted.

“I resent what I became as a man when I allowed myself to be obsessed with one thing,” Mulder said as he shook his head. “I’m not willing to stop looking but I don’t want to push you away from me now.”

“I’m not ready to come home, Mulder,” she admitted and grabbed a tissue from the table to hold against herself as she got off his lap.

She left the living room to clean herself up in the bathroom and he followed behind her to do the same.

“Are you planning to divorce me?” Mulder asked with a twinge of panic in his voice that would only be discernible to her.

“No!” she answered quickly as she washed her hands. “No…. I just… I think you’re not ready and neither am I.”

“You… you’re not ready to come back home?” he questioned.

She slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry…. but no. I’m not ready… I think if you’re still looking into these things… I just need space. I think… we should try to…”

“You want to date?” he asked her with a hesitation in his voice that actually hurt her. He leaned against the sink in her powder room and breathed out through his nose as he obviously contemplated her offer. “I don’t know…”

“I’m not wanting anyone else,” she offered to him.

“Then want me,” he countered. “Just choose me and come home.”

“You’re not…” Scully sighed as she tried to choose her words. “I don’t think the person I would be coming home to is the man I built a home with.”

Mulder’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she felt horrible for saying it but it was the truth. He had changed into someone she didn’t recognize and this was beyond the ‘for better or for worse’ portion of their vows.

“What about-”

“Don’t quote the vows we exchanged,” she cut him off.

“So what?” he asked. “You want to date your husband? Exclusively?”

She nodded emphatically, not wanting to be with anyone else. Two dates with another man should have convinced her that she wasn’t free to love anyone else. Since she walked into his basement office, she should have known it would always be Mulder.

“I just think we need a reset, Mulder,” she explained.

“We didn’t really have a clean slate the first time,” he pointed out quietly as he pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead. “But… I can’t be without you. I’ll show you I’m worth coming home to, Scully.”

Scully looked up in his eyes and hoped he understood what she was asking for. She would pray for their lives to come back together but right now, there wasn’t a strong enough catalyst to inspire that. There were arguments and insults they had yet to forgive and time would need to heal that before she could come home to him.


	5. Struggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set at the beginning of My Struggle, early June 2015

“My life has become a punchline,” Mulder said over the phone and she could hear the squeak of his chair through the line. “What’s happening out there, Scully?”

He hadn’t been to D.C. to visit her since after Christmas. The recent visits they had together were an effort she had put forth but they had become few and far between over the last six months. Work had gotten in the way and he seemed less inviting when she returned home. It started to feel like a place she was visiting instead of returning to.

Occasionally, he called to check in but he had become reclusive over the last year. Long-term solitude wasn’t good for men like Fox Mulder with fascinations in paranoia and the unexplained. She was sure that he had left the house less and less even with the weather turning warmer. If he was getting out, it was probably for the essentials and maybe to run along the edges of the property. She knew he had been keeping active since their separation but he preferred not to leave home if he could.

She put a hand on her hip as she tried to relieve some of the pressure on her feet but it was a useless effort. If she sat now, she might never stand back up. The surgical ward was busy around her with doctors and nurses preparing patients to go in for long and gruelling procedures with the end result of a better life.

“Skinner is looking for you,” she reported.

“Why doesn’t he just call me?” Mulder asked.

“He doesn’t know how to reach you, Mulder,” she explained. “I barely know how myself.”

That was more of a dig at the phone calls and texts she sent that went unanswered more than not. He was engaged and brighter in person than he was over the phone.

“He wants to know if you’ve been watching something called Truth Squad with Tad O’Malley on the net,” she continued as she skipped through the name of a man who had wined and dined her on several occasions. She was hoping he wouldn’t remember the newspaper clipping or bring that up. “Apparently, he’s reached out to us through the FBI.”

Scully heard the keyboard click a few times and Mulder breathed out through his nose loudly. “Hold on. I’m bringing him up.”

She heard the video clip through the line as O’Malley spoke to the camera, “ _It’s the mainstream liberal media lying to you about life, liberty and your God-given right to bear firearms.”_

“Why would I watch this jackass, Scully?” Mulder asked acerbically.

Scully wondered if he was calling Tad a jackass because of being photographed with her at the Clean Air dinner or because it was what Tad was saying. Either way, Mulder was right.

_“9/11 was a false flag operation. It was a warm-up to World War III. Now, hear me on this. It’s all part of a conspiracy dating back to the UFO crash at Roswell…”_

“I thought you were done with UFOs,” Mulder interrupted the rant Tad was making. “The stranglehold they put on your very existence, I believe is how you put it.”

“I’m just the messenger, Mulder,” she reminded him. “Apparently he is desperate to meet.”

“Tell Skinner to set it up,” he said quickly.

“Seriously?” she questioned.

“And don’t pretend I’m going alone,” he said in a tone he had used so many times with her.

He knew how to get his way when it came to so much of their lives when he was out in the world and thriving. This was reminiscent of the drive Mulder used to have so she would agree to go. It meant Mulder would get out of the house and maybe he would remember what he was missing by being among people in a city he once loved. More importantly, she missed spending time with him and this would be an easy excuse to check up on him.

“I wouldn’t let you go alone,” she replied and immediately regretted her choice of words.

Mulder cleared his throat. “Let me?”

“I didn’t…” she started and cleared her throat uncomfortably. She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

Mulder’s chair squeaked. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

She had to clear her schedule for that afternoon to meet them downtown in D.C. but O’Malley was eager to see Mulder. There was a feeling of dread and worry filling her stomach as the hours drew closer and she realized that Tad might act as though they knew each other better than Scully had let on.

A car pulled up to the curb where Mulder had instructed her to wait and she saw him getting out of a black sedan. It wasn’t his. It wasn’t a taxi and she questioned his transportation.

“Uber?”

“Hitchhiked,” he deadpanned as he came to stand across from her. “ _Relax_ , Scully. I’m kidding.”

Her mind began to run through the possibilities. He had the means to hire a car if he wanted to and could very well have. Mulder wasn’t frivolous with his money so her mind went back to thinking that maybe he did take an Uber. It would bother her to not know.

She shifted her feet and looked at him with concern. “I just worry about you, Mulder.”

“Not to worry, Doc,” he said casually. “I’m taking good care of myself.”

“It’s good for you to get out of that little house every once in a while,” she said with a grin.

“It certainly was good for you,” he remarked.

His zingers were sharper when she wasn’t visiting as often and she made a mental note not to let their visits be as few and far between. There was a moment she thought that maybe he wouldn’t want her back but she pushed the thought aside as quickly as it entered her mind.

She smirked a little and kept her arms crossed. “I’m always happy to see you.”

“And I’m always happy to find a reason,” he replied.

He pressed his lips together like he was going to lean in and kiss her cheek but something stopped him.

It was the sound of Tad O’Malley’s limo pulling up that caused him to step back from her and she glanced nervously at the tall Republican as he stepped out of the car.

“Fox Mulder,” Tad asked as he approached with an outstretched hand.

“Yes,” Mulder confirmed and extended his hand.

“Tad O’Malley,” he said as they shook hands. He looked to Scully and smiled as though they had never met. “And you must be former agent Dana Scully.”

“Yes,” she answered and she wondered if the surprise in her tone was evident to more than just herself. “That’s quite an entrance you make there.”

“She’s shot men with less provocation,” Mulder quipped.

Tad gave Mulder a full smile and nodded. “Funny. I heard you were funny.”

He had heard that from Scully when Tad asked about her former partner. She was waiting for him to mention that he knew her and expose them both. Maybe Tad was smart enough to know Mulder wouldn’t go anywhere with him if he knew that he had tried to pick up his estranged wife at a gun range.

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look and she wondered how much he was able to read about her emotions right now.

“Join me for a little ride?” Tad invited.

“I’d be happy to talk to you, Mr. O’Malley,” Mulder assured him. “Right here is fine.”

Mulder did have more history of getting into a limo with a well-dressed man and almost being killed than most so it was a solid theory as to why he was anxious to stay on the street.

“Allow me my small precautions,” Tad exhorted. “Low flying aircraft often employ what they call ‘dirt boxes’ to record conversations that I prefer private.”

“Aircraft employed by whom?” she questioned.

Men like Tad O’Malley and Fox Mulder had similar theories when it came to how the government spied on its people but their precautionary applications were different. Mulder put a piece of duct tape over his webcam whereas Tad O’Malley preferred to take meetings in a limo fit for a president.

Scully gave Mulder a skeptical look before climbing inside but she refrained from making a comment.

Once they began driving down the road, Tad reached into an ice bucket and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “Because, why not?”

“None for me, thanks.” Mulder made a face. He was never much of a day drinker. “Scully?”

Scully kept her legs crossed and hands clenched together as she shook her head no. She wanted a stiff drink but worried alcohol would let something else slip she didn’t want to.

“I take it you have enemies,” Scully noted.

It certainly never came up in their casual conversations but neither did his web show.

“Well not always of my choosing, Dana,” Tad replied slyly.

She looked at him with strained patience but tried to smile politely. Mulder’s fingers pressed on the control for the window next to him but nothing happened. Mulder clicked on the button on his door to lower the window.

_Click, click, click, click click._

He couldn’t just try anything once to make sure it didn’t work.

“Air’s getting a little hot in here,” Mulder said flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tad apologized smoothly. “Those don’t roll down. I had the vehicle bulletproofed.”

That was a new development since she last saw him and she wondered if it had anything to do with a change in his relationship situation. Scully glanced at Tad’s hands and saw he was not wearing a ring, not that wearing one changed someone’s marital status. She was technically still married but was without her solitaire diamond.

“’Cause you never know when a gun-toting liberal might go Hinckley,” Mulder shot back.

It was usually the conservatives who were gun-loving and unstable but men from Tad’s side of the aisle usually looked at men like Mulder as the unstable ones. With the rise in mass shootings, liberals weren’t usually the ones to be wary of or the ones carrying the guns but that was more of Mulder’s commentary on hot button issues, not hers. She was sure the men who killed her sister and his father didn’t have a political party.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Scully apologized for Mulder before Tad could reply. “How can we help you, Mr. O’Malley?”

“I’m not some Johnny-come-lately to the UFO phenomenon, Mr. Mulder,” Tad said in a way to put it out on the table and measure with Mulder. “Like yourself, I’m a _true_ believer.”

If that line was for her or Mulder, she wasn’t sure.

“No, I only want to believe,” Mulder disagreed. “Actual proof has been strangely hard to come by.”

Not exactly the argument he had when he was shoving newspaper clippings in her face and asking her to believe in the truth about what was coming. He told her the apocalypse was on its way and they needed to get out of Virginia to a safer place. He said he was holding proof in his hand but all he seemed to have was theories and conjecture.

“You ran the X-Files,” Tad reminded him. “You were the X-Files. You all but wrote the book.”

She wasn’t sure if the flattery was going to get Tad anywhere. Mulder was a child who grew up with little praise and as such, compliments often made him uncomfortable.

“I’m afraid that book is closed,” Mulder replied but without a hint of regret.

“As are the X-Files,” Scully chimed in.

She couldn’t tell if he was trying to brush off Tad or prove something about his mental well-being to her but she was going to support Mulder now. As much as she could, she would agree that the search into the paranormal was long over. They were working towards a better life and hopefully, eventually, that would be together.

“For better or worse, we’ve moved on with our lives,” Scully continued.

“Yes, we have,” Mulder agreed as he looked over to her. “For better or for worse.”

If that wasn’t a dig at broken vows, she didn’t know what was. She let out a breath and wished she could be anywhere but where she was at that exact moment. She would rather retake the M-CATs in her forties after ten years out of the field of medicine than sit in the backseat of a limo with Fox Mulder and Tad O’Malley in that very at that moment. She looked over to Tad, who was studying them closely and she wondered if he could figure out just by the way they were sitting in the limo, how often or how little she and Mulder saw one another lately.

“Well, that’s beside the point,” Tad replied as he jumped over the hint that Mulder and Scully had said vows at one point in their lives. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that Mulder was more than Scully’s estranged partner.

“What is the point, Mr. O’Malley?” Mulder asked sharply. “And how does a man with your conservative credentials count himself a believer in UFO’s and 9/11 false flag conspiracies?”

“I take it you consider my message disingenuous?” Tad clarified.

“Conspiracy sells,” Mulder shot back as he glanced around at the luxurious decor. “It pays for the bulletproof limousines.”

“You think I do it for the ratings?” Tad asked with a smile.

“I think you’re The O’Reilly Factor with a shopworn little gimmick,” Mulder replied.

“What Bill O’Reilly knows about the truth could fill an eyedropper,” Tad sneered about the fellow conservative commentator.

Mulder smiled over to Scully and she met his eyes, seeing in him that he was about to challenge Tad. He frowned as he considered an obscure trivia piece of ‘believer’ history.

“The Kelly Cahill incident,” Mulder mentioned as to ask Tad to fill in the blanks.

If he failed, Mulder would ask them to pull over and they could say goodbye to O’Malley forever. She hoped what he knew of Mulder’s personal favourite topic would also fill an eyedropper. Scully looked at Tad in wonder if he would live up to his own hype and he grinned smugly back at her before setting his eyes on Mulder.

“Kelly Cahill and her husband were driving home in Victoria, Australia, when a craft appeared overhead,” Tad began and she felt her heart sink. “The Cahills lost an hour of time and Kelly was hospitalized with severe stomach pain after discovering a triangle-shaped mark near her navel. As I said, my interest is real. What I need is your expertise.”

“Our expertise for what?” Scully asked.

“I’m rattling some pretty big cages in the intelligence community,” Tad explained. “But I’m prepared to go all in, prepared to blow open maybe the most evil conspiracy the world has ever known.”

This could be Mulder in 2013 but he was clean-shaven and holding down a steady job. The words were the same but he wasn’t shaking her with anger in his voice and desperation in his eyes. This was a calm and smooth description of what he believed was inevitable.

She realized as she looked at the man across from her in the limo that it didn’t matter the way it was delivered. Scully didn’t buy this brand of bad news.

“That’s quite the assertion, Mr. O’Malley,” she noted. “What’s stopping you?”

“If I’m putting my ass out there, I need to know it’s hanging by more than a very slender thread,” Tad reasoned.

Mulder turned to Scully in the limo. “Apparently, he has something to show us.”

“Something,” Tad confirmed. “And someone.”

Tad tapped on the glass partition and spoke in a low, hushed tone to the driver about their next stop. Scully looked over to Mulder and they held a look as she tried to ascertain how interested he was in moving forward with Tad on this adventure. Mulder’s mouth twitched up to a grin and she knew his curiosity had been piqued.

“We’ll leave when you say the word,” Mulder promised her and she glanced over to Tad who had snapped his head back to watch the exchange. “We’re leaving when she says the word.”

Tad nodded. “Okay, Dana, you’re in charge.”

Mulder’s jaw clenched at the usage of her first name and they drove the rest of the way to Low Moor, Virginia with tension-fueled conversations and awkward silences. It was the longest three hours of her life.

On the last road to their final destination, they passed a two-floor brick school where children played in the bright green grass field. Scully smiled quietly to herself at the sight of young boys playing a pick-up game and kids hung on fences for their turn at bat. When she looked to Mulder, he was watching her face instead of the boys but she wondered if he was reminiscing about the time he asked her to smell a baseball while she discussed remains.

The remote location was less than ideal to travel to by car. It was quiet, idyllic and small. It reminded her of places in Home, Pennsylvania that Mulder idealized as a place to settle down. Their joint property was a compromise to something in between with a slightly larger town nearby but with the quiet privacy that their expansive yard provided. Where Sveta was felt like a throwback to all the towns she and Mulder visited during the X-Files when progression stopped in 1972.

“Cozy place,” Mulder commented as they drove down the gravel road.

“Interesting word choice for a man who lives in a small house on the edge of the woods,” Tad remarked.

“I get better service than Ted Kazinsky,” Mulder retorted. “And most of the places near me deliver good take-out.”

“Aliens couldn’t find this place,” Scully noted as they stepped out of the car. “How did you, Mr. O’Malley?”

She thought that making a crack about aliens might relax Mulder towards her but he didn’t make a comment after hers.

“A man in my position finds himself contacted by interesting strangers,” Tad replied slyly.

Scully followed Tad with Mulder close behind her as they approached the house. She could see Sveta watching them from the window and she looked up to Mulder to see him looking curiously back at the young woman.

Mulder gave Sveta a kind greeting and Scully felt her dander rise at her previous encounter to Mulder. She could feel his embarrassment when he assumed they met under different circumstances. The first time they met, he had interviewed her family when she was a child. The age gap between the old partners and the beautiful young woman in front of them became more painfully apparent.

Inside the home, he was interested in Sveta’s story but allowed Scully to lead the questions. It wasn’t until Sveta claimed to have alien DNA that Mulder spoke up and asked Scully to validate Sveta and Tad’s claims.

“Something you could test?” Mulder asked from the opposite end of the couch. “ _Dana_?”

Scully knew what he was doing by mocking Tad but it was to irk at her also. She tried not to react by calling him ‘Fox’ but instead she cleared her throat. “Of course. Are you available to come to the hospital I work at?”

Sveta glanced to Tad and she nodded at Scully. “I can do that.”

“I won’t have time until tomorrow morning. I have patients waiting…” Scully glanced at her watch as she stood up from the couch. ”I need to get back to Washington. I didn’t realize this would take so long.”

Tad stood up from the couch. “I can have my chopper pick you up, Dana.”

Mulder stood up as well and looked slightly panicked he would be left alone in a car with Tad O’Malley. The expression wasn’t obvious to everyone but his clenched jaw and eyes off to the side were an indicator of his worried feelings.

“Uh,” Scully began. “I told Mulder I would drive him…”

“I’ll drop you off, Mulder,” Tad offered with a slick smile.

“How long…” Scully began to ask.

“Thirty minutes,” Tad said as he typed on his phone. “My pilot is going to meet us at the elementary school.”

She didn’t really want to take the ride from him but when she cleared her afternoon for this, she hadn’t anticipated it taking the entire day. The sun was beginning to descend from the sky down towards the horizon. A pink and orange hue began to wash over the clouds.

“Sveta,” Mulder began as they approached the door and he pulled out a piece of paper with his number hand-written on it. “I hope _we_ keep in touch.”

She looked from Mulder to Sveta and then to Tad who was watching Scully closely. She pushed past Mulder as he was extending his arm to the young woman and walked out to the car where the driver was waiting quietly.

“How long does it take to get to the school from here?” she asked.

“Ten minutes,” he answered quietly as he opened the door for her. “Nice to see you again, by the way, Ms. Scully.”

Mulder and Tad were standing on the porch discussing something quietly and she looked up to the man in sunglasses. “Nice to see you again, too.”

She felt her cheeks burn with frustration and embarrassment as she waited for Tad and Mulder to join her in the limo. Getting Mulder out of the house for this was more of a trial on her nerves than she realized and she prayed the rest of her travels would be uneventful.

 

***** *** *****

 

Sveta had gotten into her head during the exam. Scully’s mistake was anticipating that it would be quiet and indifferent as every other patient exam she had done as an intake intern. Sveta was scanning her mind for memories and feelings about Mulder when she came off as skeptical towards Sveta’s claims regarding her abduction.

She would have been able to ignore much of what she had claimed, mind reading and the telekinesis, if Sveta hadn’t mentioned the endogenous depression Scully had muttered under her breath as a possible misdiagnosis of Mulder’s condition.

She didn’t want a stranger poking around in her mind and prodding through the painful and poignant feelings of her failed marriage. She didn’t want that kind of proof that meant Sveta was speaking the truth about alien abductions. Nevertheless, she found herself possibly believing what Tad and Sveta had sold her on.

She believed it so much so that she spent every free moment for the next two days calling Mulder. His phone disconnected after the second ring each and every time she called. His intentional rejection of her attempts to communicate with her was akin to immediately after she left their home for good. Back then, he kept his phones off and her emails went unreturned. It was a time she was too afraid to come to the house in person in fear of a dismissal face to face.

The longer she worked and waited for test results from Sveta’s exam, the more she felt her heart break that the small progressions they had made were possibly nothing and she had been fooling herself.

The loneliness she felt when she was apart from Mulder was evident to even her family. Her mother asked her why she couldn’t work it out with him and she felt disappointment in the fact that she didn’t know why.

Moments like these reminded her of the answers that slipped from her mind when she had spent a weekend tangled in bed with Mulder. They worked everywhere in their lives except for the reasons they came together with her science and his paranormal theories. Those reasons became bigger than them and she didn’t know how to push back against it anymore. Sometimes she didn’t know what those were anymore.

They had seen each other so little over the last six months and she felt him slipping away from her all over again. She wasn’t sure what changed since Christmas but he stopped tolerating their distance and she feared coming home would only result with a door slammed in her face.

“ _You_ don’t know what it’s like to be abducted,” Sveta said with the ignorance of someone who hadn’t prodded much further into her mind. “To be taken against your will. You don’t know.”

Scully stepped closer to Sveta and looked into her eyes as she recalled what she could stomach of the memories of her own abductions.

“Well…” Sveta began. “Maybe you _do_.”

Scully pulled the vial of blood and removed the needle from her arm. “I’ll call you directly with the results of your tests.”

She placed a small cotton swab on the puncture point and adhered a piece of tape across her skin.

“You don’t need to,” Sveta said as she got off the exam table. “I know what they’ll tell me.”

She choked back a scoff and watched the young woman leave the exam room where a man from Tad O’Malley’s security staff was waiting for her.

The interest Tad held in Sveta lingered in her mind the rest of the day. While she assisted Dr. Reagan with their surgery on Lucas Moore, a young boy with Microtia, a comment the doctor made sparked a thought in her mind.

“I’ve taken DNA samples of every child we’ve performed surgery on,” Dr. Reagan said as he tossed his curved hemostat in the metal pan.

“Are any of their ancestries linked back to Navajo Indians?” Scully asked as she tied her last suture on Lucas’ new ear.

“Good work,” Dr. Reagan praised her as he watched over her shoulder to observe her work. “I’d like to think that it would be that simple. I’m wondering if it’s an environmental exposure from the mother to the child while in utero.”

“How could you determine that?” Scully asked.

“Well, I have some OBGYN’s coming forward making observances of this,” Dr. Reagan said as he stepped back from Scully and shed his surgical gloves. “I think if we can look to the mothers, maybe we can see why these children were born with such an affliction.”

“Hopefully not to lay blame,” Scully commented as she placed her curved hemostat in the pan quietly next to his. She could tell Dr. Reagan was grinning behind his surgical mask by the shift in his cheek. “I mean, to determine a cause is helpful but a mother isn’t always at fault when a child is born under circumstances beyond her control.”

Dr. Reagan approached Scully and put a hand on her shoulder. “Dana, I never look at a mother as someone we can blame. Even the ones who are careless about conceiving a child.”

Scully swallowed and tried to hold Dr. Reagan’s gaze but she faltered, looking down at her bloodied gloves. His attentions never made her feel quite comfortable but not in the ways that Mulder’s attentions upset her insides. Dr. Reagan was married with four children and often made comments of a more than friendly nature. There was talk among the staff he had affairs but Scully had so few friends at the hospital, she was often left out of the gossip. Mulder’s attentions, during the entirety of their partnership, never crossed a line no matter how low his hand travelled on her lower back. Dr. Reagan seemed to test every boundary, especially since she stopped wearing her wedding ring to work.

“You have some splatter on your throat there,” Dr. Reagan said as he stepped back and gestured to her neck. He began to back out of the surgical bay and pulled down his mask. “Good job today, Dr. Scully.”

When Dr. Reagan left her alone with Lucas, she signalled to the nurse in the observation room to come in to take their young patient to recovery. As Lucas was being wheeled away, something inside her decided to run her own blood for the same markers as Sveta’s. If there were any similarities, she would want to know.

As soon as she had changed her scrubs but before she could clean herself up, she administered a needle into her own Median Cubital vein. As the vial filled and she turned away from the door to remove the needle from her arm, a voice startled her from a few feet away.

“Testing yourself for alien DNA?” Tad asked from the doorway.

“High cholesterol,” she lied as she pulled out the needle and applied a bandage.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” he started as she approached him. “It looks like you’ve had quite a day.”

Scully let out a long, tired breath as she passed him to the adjoining room. “The usual around here.”

When she glanced back over her shoulder as she spun the vial slowly in her hand, Tad’s eyes were fixated to Lucas’ portrait.

“Doesn’t look so _usual_ to me,” he said as he entered the room.

He was drawn to the sight of Lucas’ profile and she knew where his mind might wander. Mulder’s did the same when she first began this job working under Dr. Reagan. He asked at least fifty questions about Microtia and the children in the case. Scully answered as many as she could as she stood tiredly in that very room. Mulder kissed her forehead and told her he missed hearing her ‘sciency talk’. It was only a year ago but it felt like decades.

“It’s a disease called Microtia,” she explained to Tad as she bagged her blood sample. “Children born without ears.”

“You _operate_ on these kids?” Tad asked.

“I assist the surgeons, who are really doing God’s work,” she explained and wished whatever was scratching the back of her throat would clear out. She needed to drink hot water with lemon and lay down for eighteen hours. She filled out the form for the blood work and ticked off the same boxes she had asked for on Sveta’s. “Giving kids what their biology neglected.”

“So it’s a genetic deformity?” he asked.

He was a journalist and he sounded like a man on the street trying for a story but there was something else in his voice such as genuine interest in Lucas and others like him.

“Possibly but not conclusively,” she wavered. “It’s most common in Navajo Indians.”

“What’s so striking is how _alien_ it looks,” he noted.

Of course, Tad would relate it back to her previous work experience.

“I assure you that is simply a _random_ coincidence, Mr. O’Malley,” she replied flatly.

She was waiting for him to correct her to call him Tad.

“You mean, unrelated to your previous work experience?” he queried and Scully turned slightly to look at him.

“Far, far from that experience,” she replied.

It was so far from that previous work experience that no one asked her to believe that a flying cow was caused by anything other than a small tornado from temperamental weather. The children she worked on looked for science to help them where their biology failed. Nothing paranormal was mentioned and not once had a single doctor inside those walls mentioned little grey men.

“Do you miss it at all?” he asked. “The X-Files?”

If this was any other man in front of her, she would state firmly that she didn’t. She would obfuscate the truth about her past work with Mulder and hopefully send him on his way. Maybe it was because she was exhausted from a long day or because she knew him previously, but she answered him honestly.

“As a scientist, it was probably some of the most intense and challenging work I’ve ever done,” she admitted. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

“You mean, working with Mulder?” Tad clarified.

Of course, Mulder would come into this. She didn’t know if he was there for answers about her former partner or if he held a genuine interest in her. Nothing about her seemed to be singular from Mulder - since she was assigned to his office over twenty years ago to now. Sometimes she thought the most interesting things about herself were tied to him and part of her resented him for that.

“Possibly one of the most intense and challenging relationships I may ever have,” Scully said. “And quite honestly, the most impossible.”

Scully felt regret immediately oversharing that information about Mulder. He always kept his cards close to his chest when discussing anything about her with others. She should do the same. _Maybe if Mulder could return a damned phone call…_

She brushed away the thought.

“Yeah, I got that impression,” he acknowledged.

“Are you here for a reason?” Scully asked him pointedly.

“I needed to know that you weren’t upset with Mulder putting you on the spot with this Sveta business,” he said in almost a plea for forgiveness.

Tad had done his research about Mulder but what he didn’t know was that he would refuse to go alone on most ventures.

“No, it’s fine,” she said as she thought back to the conversation between her and Sveta earlier. “I’m… used to it.”

“And I just wanted to see you again,” he finished.

Scully turned slowly to him. The look in his eyes was familiar to her and he smiled nervously.

“Did you?” she asked.

“When you told me your past with your ex was complicated, I didn’t realize the enormity of it,” Tad replied.

“I suppose I could have told you that my former partner and my estranged husband were the same person,” she admitted.

“Is that how you see him?” Tad asked. “An estranged _husband_?”

“I don’t know what we are,” she cut him off. “I thought… I thought we were moving back to a place we could but he’s…”

Scully stopped speaking and clenched her chin as she stopped herself from speaking ill of him.

“Dana,” he said as he closed the gap between them. “Join me for a drink.”

“I’m… not sure that’s a smart idea,” she said reluctantly as he took her hand.

“I’m just asking to spend some time together,” he clarified. “I’ll be a gentleman.”

Scully pulled her hand back. “Let me make a phone call.”

Tad pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll wait over there, where the comfortable chairs are.”

Her mind wasn’t justifying going with Tad because Mulder ignored another phone call of hers. Her heart was asking for a sign but she couldn’t find clarity in what was unknown. She loved Mulder, she wanted them to work things out but he seemed to be determined now to focus on new truths buried in lies. He wasn’t interested in reconciliation as long as he had another quest to occupy his time and she became rejected by a man who chose the mistress of his work over her, yet again.

Scully took a shower in the staff locker room and emerged in a black suit she had put on for her morning meeting with Father Y’barro. When she emerged into the small waiting area, Tad was sitting patiently with his hands folded in his lap.

“ _One_ drink,” she bartered.

Tad stood up. “Just so you know, I don’t think of champagne as a drink so the count starts when we get to the bar.”

But they wouldn’t make it to dinner uninterrupted. Mulder finally called her back with his voice tense and sounding like he had in 2013 before she left.

“Scully, listen to me,” he said through the phone. “I’ve been misled. We’ve been misled.”

Her heart sank. Scully knew he was on the verge of something but she wasn’t sure she could be a party to it. If all she needed to do was to calm him down and help him see he was off on a tangent that was made up of lies fed to him by unknown sources, maybe she could talk some sense into him. However, right now, she was tired of putting her life on hold for him. It had to end sometime.

 


	6. Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Struggle

His voice scared her and she couldn’t stay in the car with Tad. The more he spoke, the more she realized how much he did need her. He was darting off through major tangents that needed science and facts. As always, her specialty would show him the truth or add any credibility to his wild assumptions. Her mind raced through the possibilities of what he could have been told. If she could go to him in the morning, she hoped she could at least talk some sense into him.

“What if everything we’ve been led to believe in is a lie?” Mulder posed the question. His voice was tense and she could practically feel his manic state through the phone. “What if there is no alien conspiracy?”

Scully asked Tad to pull over and she handed him the champagne back before exiting the limo.

“Mulder what are you talking about?” she asked as she took a few steps away from the car in an attempt to provide some privacy.

“I’m talking about everything we’ve been led to believe,” he began. “Our work, the X-Files, _everything_.”

“Can we talk about this later?” she asked. “Tomorrow? I can come by…”

“I know why O’Malley came to us Scully,” Mulder said, ignoring her offer.

Tad approached Scully on the street with concern in his eyes and put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“And that girl is the key, Scully,” Mulder continued. “Sveta is the _key_ to everything.”

“Couldn’t you be jumping to conclusions?” she asked delicately as she took a few steps away from Tad.

“I can’t do this over the phone right now, Scully,” Mulder replied quickly. “I gotta go.”

“Mulder where are you going?” she asked just like she had during their first year together. Just like all those times, he hung up and ignored her. The line went dead and she stood on the street feeling the frustration that he was trying to pull her back into this quest all over again.

“Mulder, talk to me!” she pleaded but it was useless.

Scully turned around with her hand still holding her phone to her ear. She felt so foolish how easily he could rope her back in.

“I’m not going,” she declared as she put it into sleep mode. “I’m not helping him.”

“Dana,” Tad began as he held a hand out to her. “Is he a danger to himself or others?”

Scully shook her head. “ _No_ ….He’s not like that. He’s… he’s worked up over something but he’s never done anything harmful.”

“Then he’ll be fine,” Tad replied as he took her hand to lead her back to the limo. “Let’s get something to eat.”

She looked at his face that showed only hope and kindness. She felt tired and her stomach clenched as it reminded her she _was_ hungry. She nodded.

Tad O’Malley was right. There wasn’t anything she could do right now. When she called Mulder’s phone back, it went straight to voicemail. She had no way of tracking him down and she couldn’t put an X on her high-rise apartment window in hopes he would reach out to her. Those days were over.

“He’s got a ways to go before he’s ready to appear on my show and testify to anything,” Tad said as he held the door for Scully to get back inside.

Although that comment was odd and questionable, she didn’t prod any further. It took her two glasses of champagne and a glass of wine at dinner but by the time Tad dropped her off at her door, she had let go of the worries over Mulder. Her heart ached as she came to the realization that Mulder would never choose her over the work, even after all they had been through.

She had made up her mind and she wouldn’t be jumping back into his quest to know how and why the dark underbelly of their government was conspiring against its people. This was not her life anymore. She didn't have much of one outside of Mulder but she needed to move on.

If he wanted her to be a part of his life, he would have to come to her with more than just the possibility of undiscovered science while enticing her to explore new truths. It would have to be with an outstretched hand and the promise of more beyond their quest.

She awoke the next morning with a slight headache and three patients to prep for surgery. She took a cab to the hospital with an overnight bag in case her day ran long and planned to sleep in the on-call room. Being at work right now would be her solace as her heart ached at the realization Mulder was finished with her too. He needed science to explain his theories but he wasn’t asking for her help as he usually did. He was pushing her away for not believing. Every hour that passed that he didn’t reach out to her was another nail in the coffin that was their marriage and life together.

She was all but ready to let it go when Tad made his news report about the work she had been doing with Dr. Reagan. She felt somehow exposed and her privacy violated even though what he was doing could possibly lead to more funding for Microtia research.

She slammed the laptop shut and asked the nurse to rerun her results for a new marker that her previous test had not checked for. It occurred to her that the junk DNA Gibson Praise held wouldn’t show up on the regular screens she had run. Against her better judgement, she would be looking into precisely what Mulder had asked. He knew exactly how to spark her interest and send her mind down winding paths of unknown science while he relentlessly charged full steam ahead. If she was going to stop the train on this pursuit, she wanted to make sure this was a dead end.

As she suspected, the results came back and the alien DNA she swore up and down that she had wasn’t there. Any of the same ‘junk DNA’ that wasn’t active in her or Mulder didn’t even appear on her genome sequencing.

She had to tell him. If only to warn him and save him from himself. She had a feeling that something was about to happen and Tad was riling Mulder up with a long rope to hang himself with.

She dialled his number as she got onto the highway but the line was busy. She tried Tad next but he didn’t answer his phone either. Nothing was making sense. She was tired of being a pawn between the big players. She wouldn’t be used by Mulder or Tad any longer. 

If he wouldn’t listen to reason, she could say goodbye for good. She couldn’t save a man who would save the world but not save himself.

She made the decision to drive to him if he was going to continue to ignore her. She would tell him that she couldn’t put her life on hold any longer while he put his focus into this quest again. He would have to give her some closure if she saw him face to face. You can’t hang up on a person in front of you. On the drive to see him, she told herself to stay strong and not to be swayed by any persuasive arguments he may have. She had to do what was best for herself. Her decision had nothing to do with men like Tad O’Malley showing an interest. She could no longer live in this limbo with him. It was too hard.

When she showed up at his door, the moon was bright outside the house that they had refurbished into a home from an ordinary property. It became one filled with memories and trinkets of their new life that began with him still a fugitive and her living a lie. The house was a place he still inhabited instead of trying to move on. Scully considered that maybe Mulder wouldn’t ever move on from her and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted him to. It was difficult to decide how you wanted to live the rest of your life when the person you vowed to forsake above all others made your life at best exciting and filled with passion. At its worst, the time together was impossible and frustrating.

Anger pumped through her veins as she frantically approached the steps of the house. She could hear the television on inside, a baseball game that was entirely too loud. That infuriated her more. She had just spent the better part of the day worrying over Mulder and he was watching a damn game.

“Mulder!” she called as she opened the door, annoyed it was unlocked.

He came into the living room from the kitchen, holding a bag of seeds and wearing a surprised expression. His stubbled cheeks and trimmed hair told her that he had shaved in the last day. The black cotton shirt stretched over his muscles and she felt conflicted in that he didn’t seem as worked up as she thought he would have been when she arrived. He looked calm, surprised and sweet - her mind pushed away any desirable urges towards him. This wasn’t the time.

“What’s wrong?”

“You hung up on me last night!” she cried, throwing her keys to the table. They slid across the dusty wood and landed on the floor next to the wall with a thunk. “You call me in a panic, talking about the X-Files, hang up on me when I don’t agree with you and then I don’t hear from you all day!”

Even apart, she hoped for more from him. She expected him to return a damn phone call or explain more than “she’s the key” without explaining what Sveta had told him that day. Scully knew that when she went on that ride with Tad and Mulder yesterday that this was inevitable but it still frustrated her. She had been dragged back into talking about paranormal activity and Mulder would anticipate her to follow him like it was any other investigation almost twenty years ago.

She could live her life knowing there were answers that still needed to be found but she chose another path when she left. She chose to tamper down curiosity of the unexplained because of how much it had cost her. Her sister, her chance at motherhood, her relationship with her brother and temporarily, her mother for a while too.

“Scully, you have to believe what I’m telling you,” he started.

She held up her hand to stop him. “No!”

The fact that she drove forty-five minutes and arrived just as angry as she was when she got in her car said something. She wasn’t just worried for Mulder, she was livid.

“What?” he asked.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped, her voice tense and full of distaste. “You want to believe something sinister is happening so badly, you’ll create this scenario out of nothing!”

“It’s  _not_ nothing!” he shouted back. “Sveta is telling me the truth and if you opened your goddamned eyes for one second you could actually believe it!”

Mulder rarely shouted at her - not since she left. However, when he did, it was because he was on the verge of something or he felt like he was.

“You only call me when my help would prove some wild theory! After twenty years, I’m still just some encyclopedia of information for you! Use Web MD, Mulder. Take her to a doctor for any more tests. I’m done!”

This was what tore them apart, what pushed her out the door. This is what made her want to leave. This fucking quest that never seemed to end. They didn’t come. He could believe in anything except for that the world wasn’t ending. All he wanted to focus on in his life was the dark labyrinth of conspiracies that seem to only live inside his psyche.

“Now hold on just a goddamned minute!” he crossed the space between them and grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving. “I’ve been testing her all day and everything she’s telling me is exactly what happened to you! You think I would call you and try to get you to come here if I hadn’t done some fucking research!”

“Isn’t that what you use me for? The science?” she shouted back. “You get to jump to a wild conclusion and hope it pans out while I’m actually doing something!”

Sveta came down the stairs, carrying an MP3 player and headphones around her neck. Scully looked at Mulder with confusion and distaste and pulled her arm from his grasp.

 _What would she be doing upstairs?_ Scully wondered. _Was this another Samantha substitute?_

Would every female she saw with Mulder, that he wanted to save, need to make her feel somehow threatened? There wasn’t anything to be threatened about anymore. She wasn’t his anymore and she could no longer call him hers. She left and that was the line she drew.

“Mulder?” the young woman asked as she glanced to Scully.

“It’s okay, Sveta,” he assured her and she glanced between the two estranged lovers and nodded before going back up.

There was clearly a lot of trust there. That bothered Scully too.

"I’ve already seen her. What am I supposed to look for now?” she asked, her jealousy bubbling up inside of her and coming out in a spiteful tone. She took a deep breath and tried to regain some composure. “You want me to spend time on more exams?”

“It’s not like that,” Mulder said with a roll of his eyes. “I need you to sit with her. You need to examine her. I need your help on this. There are things you can ask her that I don’t know about.”

“You were abducted too,” she reminded him.

“Our experiences were just slightly different,” Mulder spat back.

Scully had spent the morning drawing her blood, taking samples of her DNA with saliva swabs and examining her wounds from the ‘abductions.’ All it did was frustrate her and put her guard up. Somehow, what she and Mulder shared was known to Sveta and she didn’t buy the mind-reading bit.

But no matter what, she had curiosities about Sveta too. How many times had he asked for her help and she still went, still got dressed in the middle of the night, still flew to who knows where on a hunch? This time, she couldn’t. Not after the last six months of little to no contact. Not after being purposely ignored for the last two days. It had to end sometime.

Scully shook her head. “No, Mulder.”

“She says she was abducted like you were. She says she was taken by men, her ova were harvested and she’s barren,” he described.

He didn’t need to say just like her.

His voice was still tense and he was standing over her in that way he did when they argued and he wanted her to see his point. He used to invade her space and try to throw her mental argument with his physical presence. She didn’t back down then and he didn’t stand any less away from her all those years.

“Mulder, I don’t remember much of my abduction and I won’t revisit any of that,” she snapped. 

“Why? Because it could bring those men to justice?” he countered.

“Those men are probably dead now,” she said.

“If I can’t change what was taken from you then you have to help me stop it from happening to more women,” he pleaded. “You have to help me! Why did you come here if you weren't going to help me?”

“This is what scares me, Mulder. You’re just like you were when I left and nothing has changed,” she replied.

“Is that why you left? To knock some sense into me?” She could see that his anger was bubbling up inside of him again. She knew she broke his heart when she left and nothing had changed. “Not this bullshit excuse again. I’ve always been the same person!”

“That’s why we can’t be together,” she spat back at him and tried to push past him to find her keys.

He counter-stepped to her.

“Get out of my way,” she managed through clenched teeth.

“Admit that you’re just a little curious,” he goaded. “Admit that much to yourself.”

“No,” she scoffed, only slightly outraged.

“After all that you’ve seen, you can’t even admit this is still going on? Are you that stubborn or did you bury your head in the sand when you moved to your new apartment and got your fancy job?” he sneered.

“Fuck you, Mulder,” she said pushing on his chest.

He grabbed her wrists with each strong hand and they fought for control for a moment as they walked back towards the desk. She pulled her arms free and shoved him again, this time he caught her wrists with one hand before he crushed her mouth under his. Her eyes opened wide in response and her arms continued to pull away from him. He held her hands between their chests, under their faces, and she struggled against him. She needed to get out of there. She hated that he was doing this. Not because he didn't have her consent but his timing was terrible. She couldn't be with him in this way while he was searching for answers. It cost them both too much.

Fingers reached out to his soft cotton shirt, clutching at the material while her mouth instinctively opened to his. Every part of her body was firing with the duality of hating what he was doing but needing him so much.

Mulder kissed her harder and pushed her onto the desk, knocking a few items and stacks of papers to the floor. Her pink tongue slid into his mouth so she could taste him. The familiar flavour of sunflower seeds, the coffee he was drinking earlier and something else accosted her senses and she didn’t mind one bit. She let out a soft moan as he used his free hand to grab her ass, pushing her boding flush to his. The evidence of his want for her pressed into her belly as his fingers dug into her flesh and bruised her skin.

He tore his mouth away from hers and kissed down her neck. The hand that was once holding her wrists now thread through her hair and held her head roughly.

“Ah!” she cried out as his teeth sunk into her alabaster skin, marking her.

“Your boyfriend can see these the next time he takes you out,” he growled into her neck and sucked on the skin, causing the capillaries to burst and break in oblong circles. 

She didn't want to think what it meant that he knew she had spent time with Tad just the night before. Did he hack Tad's bank account or follow them?

The very idea made her livid. This wasn't them. This roughness, this jealousy or the territorial way he was marking her like some Neanderthal. They had sex after fighting but she couldn't remember them ever having sex while they were still arguing. If they did, she pushed it to the far reaches of her memory. It felt bad in as many ways as it felt good.

His mouth crushed against hers again and she scratched her nails down his back, through his shirt. She knew it would leave a mark and hoped it would. If she wasn’t leaving here unscathed, neither would he. The kissing was heated, teeth gnashing into each other and biting at lips. There was anger fueling the passion they were fighting against and she shoved him off of her.

She put a hand over the skin on her neck where it stung from his bites and her eyes were wild with anger and lust. Her mouth was bruised and swollen from his kisses and her body was on fire with want. She wanted him inside of her, on top of her and everywhere. She didn’t care about the principles of leaving before. It wouldn’t change what happened with them now.

She found reassurance in his eyes and Mulder stepped to her and kissed her again. This time softer but with the same intent. The final result would be fucking not making love. Nothing tender or sweet.

He pulled at the waist of her skirt, wrenching on the zipper roughly as her feet hit the floor and she worked on the button of his jeans. Her hands shook as she frantically reached and pushed his boxers down with them. He was frustrated with the zipper on the expensive piece and tore the material up her hips roughly, the sound of fabric ripping slightly echoing through the quiet house. Her skirt was wrapped awkwardly around her waist and he took the material at the back of her panties and tore them.

“Oh my god!” she cried, tearing her mouth away from his and looking down to the material shreds in his hands. “You just ripped them in two! Those were thirty-five dollars.”

“You can send me a bill,” he smirked, tugging her skirt off her hips. His fingers moved to her blazer and white dress shirt and she helped him in an attempted to save more than one item of her clothing.

The blazer and dress shirt joined her skirt on the floor near their feet while he remained almost fully clothed. It was somewhat of a metaphor for her to be left so exposed while he tore apart everything she had put up to get inside. Just like the protection she put around her heart, he had ripped that way and worked his way in, against her better judgement.

Sveta could walk down at any moment. Someone driving past might see… what if someone came to the house?

Mulder turned her around roughly, pushing her past the desk and against the wall. She braced her hands behind her and he spread his legs a little so he could rub the head of his dick against her folds. One hand grabbed her breast, snaking into her top and over her satiny bra.

“ _Please_ ,” she whimpered. She wanted him inside of her as much as her next breath.

“Please, what?” he growled into her ear as he continued to tease.

His strong fingers moved the cup of her bra down and pinched her nipple. She felt constricted by their position against the wall of the living room and with his feet on either side of hers, she couldn’t spread her legs more to maneuver him further inside.

She pushed the wall to gain some control and Mulder spun her around again. She recognized the look in his eye but it was usually met with reverence and tenderness. It had been a long while since they fucked out of anger. The time when they had came flooding back to her when he was so livid with her after her ‘weekend retreat’ with CGB Spender.

They weren’t above this carnal action. They weren’t above much of anything. During their time together and apart, they found ways to hurt one another and make up while the pain of each freshly slung diatribe lingered in the air.

He placed her on the desk roughly. She opened her legs, inviting him in with her sex tumid and ready for more.

“Tell me you still think about this,” he murmured as he positioned himself at her entrance. Scully closed her eyes and he nipped at her mouth, swollen and bruised from their kisses. “Tell me you want me, Scully.”

Her cool blue eyes opened and she looked into his hazel orbs, seeing the pain and hurt along with the anger and doubt. “I want you, Mulder.”

Quickly, and without much tenderness or care for the time it had been since they were last together, he picked her up and impaled her with his member and she cried out again. She felt like she was going to be split in two as he held her against the wall, his hands grabbing the flesh of her ass and his hips moving quickly. Her hands grasped at the material of his shirt, her arms around his neck and legs enveloping his waist.

The sounds of their grunting and moaning echoed up the steps and to the guest bedroom Sveta was in. Scully tried not to think of that.

“Does it hurt?” he grunted. He could mean what he was doing to her or being apart and the answer to both was yes. “Do you miss me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she moaned in reply to both his queries.

He bit down along her collarbone, licked and kissed the skin he marked. He was hitting every sensitive spot he learned during their first year together, places he memorized and perfected. Today was not a tender nip but purposeful marks. Her neck would be covered in bruises tomorrow below and around her collar but he didn’t care. His primitive tendencies told him that marking her would tell anyone, including non-interested parties, that she was taken. It bothered her that she liked it.

He slowed his hips as he kissed her mouth and she felt her walls relax a little. He ground himself into her, rubbing the bundle of nerves with each thrust as she threw her head back against the wall. Her orgasm was fast approaching and she reached between them to help herself along.

Her hand moved quickly. She worked the swollen nub as her other hand dug into his back. The race to come at the same time was becoming a close one. He picked up his pace, fucking her harder than she knew was possible. She felt the burst of every nerve from her orgasm vibrate through her as Mulder let out a guttural moan and emptied himself inside of her.

They were still for a moment as their breathing slowed and she found herself regain a regular pattern. Mulder pressed his forehead against hers but she refused to look into his eyes.

This didn’t solve anything. She was still hurt by him and he hadn’t changed no matter how much he tried or promised he would. She couldn’t keep putting in these efforts any longer if it meant that they would keep circling their problems. The sex wasn’t making it any better. It was just prolonging the inevitable.

Scully pushed against his chest and maneuvered herself towards the bathroom with her clothes in hand. When she exited the bathroom, Mulder was fumbling with the buckle on his jeans.

“I have to go,” she said quickly.

“I need you with me on this, Scully,” he pleaded to her. “We have work to do.”

The footsteps on the stairs alerted her to Sveta’s presence again and she looked between the two without making eye contact with the young woman. She didn’t want to give anything else away to her. Scully quickly pulled her jacket over her white blouse and cleared her throat to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.

“She’s the key, Scully,” Mulder repeated. “Sveta is the key to everything.”

“You know what you’re doing,” she said to him but it was more a realization to herself.

He was trying to get her to stay any way he knew how but it wasn’t enough. She brushed past him to run down the porch steps.

Mulder stood at the doorway and watched her with definite longing as she got into her car. If he had been trying to stop her from leaving him for good, he should have tried to appease her sensibilities and not with passion and fervour.

“Scully,” Mulder started but she wouldn’t stop.  
   
As she began to get ready to drive away before she could turn the key in the ignition, she saw Tad exiting a vehicle behind her.

What had they just done? What was he doing here?

“Hey, where are you going?” Tad asked as she lowered her window. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

Scully was struggling to regain her composure. She felt ashamed at what had just transpired. How could she entertain the idea of anyone other than Mulder while they were still married? Her heart obviously wasn’t ready to let go. Her body still desired him but her mind was telling her rationally this would only end in her being hurt again.

“I just need to get out of here.”

Tad had no idea what had just taken place and if he did, he wouldn’t be asking her to stay.

“This is important,” he insisted assuredly.

“Don’t tell me what’s important,” Scully snapped. “Please. I just need to leave.”

Mulder walked down the steps to Scully’s car and Tad turned to him.

“Wasn’t she invited?”

She found it curious that Tad last night was trying to put distance between them but today he would want her around. His intentions were confusing her.

“I would have invited you, Scully,” Mulder told her. “But I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Scully shook her head and refused to look at Mulder. “I shouldn’t have come.”

If there was ever a conversation laden with double meaning, this was it.

“Then what are you doing here?” Tad asked, obviously confused after their discussion last night.

“Mulder, what are you up to?” Scully asked tersely, ignoring Tad’s question.

“I’m about to uncover the global conspiracy about aliens and the lies we’ve been fed,” Mulder replied as he reached for Scully’s door handle. Tad stepped back and watched as Mulder reached into the car. He leaned across her to shut off her vehicle and unbuckle her seatbelt with a familiarity she didn’t appreciate. “Listen to what I have to say before you solidify your regrets for coming here.”

Scully pushed on his hand and stepped out of the car. She didn’t know where her underwear was in the house and worried about coming across it when they walked in as a group.

Mulder held his hand out to her and Tad and they began to walk up the steps where Sveta was standing behind the screen door. Inside, he tried to explain to them all the convoluted ways that men hiding behind the government had tried to deceive the people of the United States.

The main theory Mulder had somehow concocted was that the H-Bombs and self-destruction of humanity drew extraterrestrial life forms to Earth. Their original intent to visit our planet was out of concern for the people as we destroyed one another through territorial wars. Mulder believed that their self-sacrifices, including the crash in New Mexico, prevented our annihilation.

His theory was that in turn, we stole their technology for our own gains through science. The government and military treated the aliens like lab rats and then used the alien DNA on our own people to create alien-human hybrids.

Mulder could connect what they were doing but not the why. The more he spoke, the less she believed. This sounded like paranoia run rampant on a man that was finally getting himself into a better place.

Tad O’Malley jumped in on the theories with Mulder, believing the government was out to get its own people. He believed that corporate greed and the takeover of the planet from well-oiled, well-armed multinational elites plotting to subjugate the very people they’re put in positions to protect.

Take away every freedom from the people, scare them into following the new orders and control them. Scully couldn’t see the purpose for what, even though they insisted it was obvious. If she couldn’t see it, the American people who watched Tad’s show wouldn’t either.

Scully shook her head at them. “You can’t say these things.”

“I’m going to say them tomorrow,” Tad informed them.

She stood up as she held her jacket and looked at the men in front of her who were cut from the same cloth. They were out to prove something sinister was going around them by rattling cages of the people who were in power. Without proof, they only had theories and conjecture. She wouldn’t put her reputation that she had built after so many years without credibility on the line for this. This wasn’t personal like in the beginning when Mulder lost his sister or she lost Melissa. This wasn’t what pushed them to keep searching for the son they were forced to give up. They didn’t know the sacrifices they would have to make when they began their partnership but they refused to give up so that their loved ones wouldn’t die in vain. This was some theory that Mulder came to through shadow men and slick Republicans like Tad O’Malley.

“It’s irresponsible _not_ to say it,” Mulder said to her.

“ _Especially_ if it’s the truth,” Sveta piped up.

“Your test came back negative,” Scully replied flatly.

“What do you mean, negative?” Mulder questioned.

“She has _no evidence_ of alien DNA,” Scully reported before walking out.

She left them in the house to discuss her declaration and drove home as fast as the speed limits would allow. No matter what transpired earlier with Mulder in that house or who Tad was off the air, she couldn’t do this again. She wouldn’t be lied to or lie to start a fearful pandemic among the people that would prove once again to be false. There was no invasion in 2012 and there wouldn’t be a major shift of power in the government. Alvin Kurtzweil suggested to Mulder that FEMA would rise to power because their authority was limitless among a national emergency. At the time, with bees carrying alien viruses and potentially pollinating corn crops with it, she almost believed it.

What her science uncovered, however, was the ‘alien DNA’ was just the junk DNA that everyone carried. It wasn’t anything extraterrestrial. It was part of the human genome. Their theories would always be disproven by science.

As she turned onto the highway back to D.C., Scully ignored a phone call from Mulder and Tad. She could let them wonder about her for a while.

 

  
****** *******

 

The offices for all the doctors at Our Lady of Sorrows provided little to no privacy for those that inhabited them. There was a wall between their desks but a large doorway was meant to offer consultation and camaraderie between colleagues. All Scully felt was the judging eyes of the doctor in the desk adjacent to hers when she arrived late or cried at her desk over a hard patient. It hadn’t helped that during her work on Christian Fearon’s difficult case that the moments she retreated to the small space for respite, her office mate, Dr. Cynthia Copeland would leave in frustration. Nothing had changed much for their relationship in the last eight years.

Those times when she would try to take a moment to gather herself in her office ended after she stopped working on patients like Christian. Once she began assisting surgeons on less life-threatening cases, she found the cloud of sadness that loomed overhead lift. It was a hard decision but Mulder was the catalyst to this shift in her position at the hospital.

In the end, he was right and she felt less sadness in her day as she worked with Dr. Reagan. She didn’t have to listen to Father Y’barra criticizing every patient diagnosis, insisting that God’s will was to take a child at such a young age.

As she sat on the edge of her desk with her thumb and forefinger playing at the cross on her necklace, Scully contemplated the decisions she was trying to come to terms with.

She had woken that morning with missed calls from both Tad and Mulder. When she arrived to work, a bouquet of flowers had been placed on her desk with a card from O’Malley asking for her to call him. Mulder would have left a small bag of seeds or possibly a nonfat Tofutti rice dreamsicle on ice. Something insignificant to anyone else but her but the meaning behind it would have been deep enough to know he was reaching out.

The phone on her desk rang and she picked it up without looking at the incoming number.

“Dr. Scully.”

It used to be just Scully when she answered. That was a minor change in her life similar to when she stopped being Dana and only saw herself as Scully. She couldn’t remember how or when the transition happened that her professional life took over her personal identity. She tried not to resent that but it was hard not to resent a lot these days.

“Dana,” Tad greeted.

She scoffed in response and almost hung up the phone.

“Don’t hang up!” he pleaded.

Scully sighed into the receiver, ignoring the rudeness of the gesture to allow Tad to insinuate he was walking on thin ice as it were.

“Dana,” Tad began. “Dana… I feel like I need to explain a few things to you.”

“What do you want from me, Mr. O’Malley?” she asked acerbically.

“It’s back to formalities now? It was _Tad_ last night,” he commented.

“That was a mistake,” Scully said certainly.

Nothing physical happened between them but spending time together wasn't the right choice. 

Tad let out a dramatic breath. “Well, I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“For using me?” she guessed. “You knew exactly how Mulder would react when you approached my former boss for him.”

“I knew he wouldn’t come alone,” Tad admitted. “I hoped I would see you again but I wanted-”

“What about what I want?” she cut him off.

“Do you even know what that is?” he countered to her.

“Yes,” she answered assuredly. “I don’t want to be the pawn in someone else’s game. I won’t stand by to watch you entice the people who watch your program into a state of panic while you use my name to add credibility to your claims.”

“Dana, isn’t that what you did for Mulder?” Tad asked her.

“You’re not Fox Mulder,” she said angrily. “You’re a man in a slick suit with a mouthpiece to preach to people the truth about lies you think the government is selling the people. You think you’re so clever to figure out what they’re doing, how they’re going to control the planet but you have no proof. That DNA test came back negative.”

“I’m paying for that,” Tad admitted. “Sveta has pulled out from being on the show. She questions everything now, even the abilities she has.”

“She was sure when I took her tests,” Scully replied. “What difference does it make if I show her one test?”

“She’s a fragile young woman who needs guidance,” Tad explained. “No matter what you hear from her, I didn’t pay her to say anything untrue or lie. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, _especially_ not to you.”

“What about Mulder?” she asked.

“What _about_ Mulder?” he repeated. “He’s prepared to do what needs to be done. Are you?”

“This isn’t my life anymore,” Scully replied. “I’d appreciate if you left me out of your news program from now on. Mulder shouldn’t be used as a pawn for your ratings and if you allow him to hang himself with the rope you’re dangling, the consequences will be more serious than you can imagine.”

“Consequences? From you?” Tad asked. “I would ask what but I know you know how to cut up a body….”

“And where to dispose of one, yes,” Scully answered certainly and he laughed nervously. “Consider that a promise.”

“I’ll try not to bring on that wrath,” he replied seriously.

Scully hung up the phone and tried to calm her nerves. She felt herself wanting to scream or lash out but that wasn’t her nature. She would need to work through the emotions later when she had time for a run or maybe in the tub with a glass of wine. This wasn’t the time.

She checked her watch and found her surgical cap on her desk. Another patient would be ready for surgery soon and she wanted to be there before the young boy went under.

Once she left the operating room and the anesthesiologist was ready to give her patient a pep talk, she decided to look for Tad’s show. Something wasn’t right when they spoke.

It bothered her that she couldn’t just let it go. She had to know what he was saying.

“ _I promised you the truth today,_ ” Tad began from behind his desk. “ _But that truth has come under assault._ ”

Sveta was testifying to a swarm of reporters, discrediting Tad and going back on everything she told them in her home only a few days ago.

“ _These are the depths our government stoops to_ ,” Tad reported. “ _We must be making them very afraid._ ”

Nurse Sandeep appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Scully? Your test results came back in.”

She looked at the cellular breakdown on the page and she found herself unable to reconcile the information in front of her. She felt her throat constrict and her breath catch in her chest. There were answers on the page that she didn’t want to accept but now wasn’t the time to continue to look. A child needed her help and that was the life and career path she had chosen.

“Dana?” Dr. Reagan greeted as he entered the observation room. He tore open a packet of soap and began scrubbing his hands meticulously. “Are you ready?”

Scully put the paper down under her laptop and grabbed a bar of soap as well to begin her own washing ritual. “Yes.”

“I’d like you to do the initial cuts around the cartilage today,” Dr. Reagan said. “I’ll observe. You’re ready for it.”

She felt a rush as she made each incision and felt the steadiness of her knife as each part of the skin moved back for her to create a space for an exterior ear. Dr. Reagan gave her encouraging comments when needed but she found herself doing the majority of the surgery without much assistance from him as he relied on for her. She felt ready and able after the first ear to work on the second. It was assuring in her position and reputation.

But as soon as they left the operating room, she felt her mind drift back to Tad. To cure the curiosity of Tad’s actions, she typed in his show title into the search engine. Nothing was available.

Something sinister was afoot. This was happening quickly and things were unravelling. The safety of the operating room had dwindled and there was the world with all its problems to face now.

Scully walked towards the staff change room with the elation from her surgery dwindling. With everything that was unfolding, the awkward status of her relationship with Mulder would have to wait. Scully thought about her conversation with O’Malley the day before and regretted what she shared with him.

To call Mulder impossible was accurate but if she was being honest with herself, it was worse to be apart. Her life felt like a shell of an existence since she moved out. Nothing in her life made sense without him. She understood herself as much that forcing her life to have purpose without his noisy presence wouldn’t happen but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to come home.

All she could think about was that she left. Of all the people to give up on Fox Mulder, Dana Scully never thought she would actually walk out on him. For all the times that had been truly dire for them, she had only felt like this darkness was too much for her twice before. Once, when her career when was in total disrepair and the X-Files was a burnt shell. The other was after Mulder had been pursued by the FBI to find Monica Banner and his freedom was enticing him back to profiling and the paranormal. Even when Mulder watched her face her own death from a cancer given to her through this quest and yet she still stood by him. She didn’t expect she could ever walk out and she had to remind herself that leaving him was the result of how far he had slipped into his pursuit for the truth. It had to get pretty bad for her to say it was enough and it did. She reached her breaking point two years ago. Because of that betrayal and the time that had passed, she worried the chances of him welcoming her back home were slim. Up until Christmas, he had mentioned it almost every time he saw her but there were a lot of things that stopped since they rang in 2015 apart.

In the last six months, she longed for those moments to helped ease the pain of their living situation. She could recognize that it was damaging to keep coming back together while they endured the worst moments of each other. Yet what this last week proved was that they still needed the other to see a glimmer of good in themselves. For whatever reason, they were bound together by more than vows and the purpose they found in their relationship endured above all else.

She still loved him with her whole heart, even when it was broken like shattered glass. Somehow, he managed to glue it together enough for her to let down her guard and invite him in. These thoughts weighed heavily on her mind as she stood under the harsh shower. As she ran the soap across her skin, she realized this wasn’t her decision alone and she needed to speak to Mulder when they found the time.

She scrubbed her body clean and donned her suit to leave for the day. As she held the paper of her DNA test in her hand, she walked with her briefcase from the elevator car that took her to the second lower level of the hospital parkade. The sound of her heels snapped along the cement floor as she approached her car. The enclosure was quiet and with every third or fourth step, a small pebble ground between the ball of her foot and the cold floor, making a small grinding noise that echoed through the parkade.

Other women found themselves in dark parkades at night with feelings of nervousness following them as they tried to get to the safety of their cars. Occasionally, hospital staff were accosted by angry or grieving family members that the small security staff spent evenings chasing away.

As she neared her vehicle, she thought to herself that the trip to the car wash she had been putting off would have to be done tomorrow. She would have to tidy-out the empty Starbucks cups piling up in the back of the centre console as well and clean out the floor mats. Long days as a surgeon made her messier than she liked. There was something scrawled on the back windshield and she frowned to herself and hoped it wasn’t another phallic doodle from one of the interns.

_DON’T GIVE UP_

It was the desperate plea from Father Joe to her on a snowy evening when she wanted to stop searching for a missing woman because of what it was doing to Mulder. He said the same thing to her outside their home when he asked her not to give up on them before their lives as a real couple could begin with his newly found freedom. Right now, she didn’t want to forfeit the fight and her desire to keep searching had been reignited by what the test results had shown.

It always took something personal to pull Scully back into their work. Whether it be her own abduction, her sister’s murder, the cancer that tore through her body and the barren womb they left her with - they all cut deep in her soul. Each time they tried to push her down, it lit a match to the passion for her own pursuit of justice.

“There’s something called the Venus Syndrome,” Mulder began as he walked around the cement pillar. “It’s a runaway global warming scenario that leads us to the brink of the Sixth Extinction.”

It wasn’t the first time he met her in a parking garage. The Watergate Hotel, the hospital at Our Lady of Sorrows, her apartment building were just some to name a few. It wasn’t the first time he approached her car with a monologue of material he had been saving up for the next time he saw her.

“Those with the means will prepare to move off the planet into space, which has already been weaponized against the poor, huddled masses of humanity that haven’t been exterminated by the uber-violent fascist elites. If you believe in that kind of thing,” he finished as he moved closer to her.

He looked tired. He had been working nonstop since they met Tad on that city street and she wondered if at any point he was able to sleep.

“You look exhausted, Mulder,” she noted with a sigh.

She felt her voice crack and she desperately wished she had something hot to soothe her body with. Maybe a hot bath with Epsom salts and Mulder’s strong hands to work out the kinks in her shoulders…

She shook her head as he shuffled his feet.

“It was a _long_ day at the office…” he mumbled.

The break they took from their life together had taken its toll on both of them but so had the years before that when she lived a lie of a solitary woman habituating normalcy in a home of a fugitive. It was anything but normal and over time that isolation was mirrored in their real lives as well. All that lead up to their ultimate separation. The years prior to her exit were a new start that seemed to work well until he lost himself.

Lately, she wasn’t sure if it was harder to be with him than without him. It frustrated her that she didn’t know how to be a woman who chose her loneliness again.

“I don’t know if you saw it, but…” she began. “Tad O’Malley pulled the plug.”

“They’re very good, these guys,” he admitted. “You know?”

“And Sveta?” she asked. “Where is she?”

Scully hoped he would have a lead on her whereabouts but he mumbled something about being frightened to death. If things were really falling apart, Sveta would be the key to proving what was true.

“We need to find her Mulder,” she told him. “We need to protect her, no matter what.”

“Why?” he asked with a shrug. “You said her tests came back negative.”

She hesitated to tell him the fallacy in the initial results but he always did better when he had the whole truth. “I ran them again…. In fact, I sequenced her entire genome because I didn’t trust the initial results.”

“Are you saying she has alien DNA?” he questioned.

“And I sequenced my own genome…” she continued as she struggled to get her words out. “Because of my history and because we have a child together…”

Mulder’s eyebrows rose as he leaned in slightly. She could see his mind making the connections that she made earlier. If it was in her, then it might be in William… Finding him now wasn’t just about making amends and hoping that they could build a relationship with him. If there was a danger in having alien DNA, they had to protect him.

“Scully…” he started. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that she’s not the only one,” she said with a hitch in her breath.

Mulder’s jaw clenched and he shook his head in disbelief.

When she was abducted, her DNA was altered from their tests. They took her ova from her womb and put a chip in her neck to track her whereabouts. At one point, she worried they might know her thoughts and be able to alter her behaviour.

“I’m saying someone has to stop these sons of bitches,” she said on the verge of tears.

Mulder reached to her and his hand wrapped around her upper arm to squeeze it reassuringly. “ _Scully_ …”

“I’m… I want to figure this out,” she started as she brushed away an errant tear. She didn’t want to cry over this news. The men who did this to her deserved her wrath, not her sorrow. "I'm going to help you."

He clenched his fist briefly then ran his hand down the front of his green khaki jacket. “I’ll do better this time around.”

A tear fell from her cheek and she stepped toward him. “I have faith in you that you will.”

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling about how we left things?” he asked as he stepped one foot closer to her. “I know… in the house wasn’t… I don’t know what I’m trying to-”

“I miss _you_ ,” she cut him off. “I miss seeing you.”

His arm enveloped her shoulders and she breathed in the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent. She tried not to feel sad to note he switched brands recently. It felt like hugging a stranger and she wondered why she hadn’t noticed that in the other times they had met.

“I’m right here,” he assured her.

She clutched the jacket in her fingers and sighed. “I don’t know…”

“I’m just offering my presence,” he replied. “As much as you want it.”

A car honked in the distance and she pulled back slightly. “I’m… I’m not ready for us to-”

“We have to get cleared for duty,” Mulder cut her off in an attempt to preempt her rejection. “I think getting back to work should be our priority. The other stuff is… I’m not going to push.”

“I don’t feel like you’re pushing-” she began.

Their phones buzzed and they read the messages in tandem.

Critical situation. Need to see you ASAP.

“Skinner,” they said in unison.

This was it. It was all beginning again but this time, they would go back to the basement without the intent for her to debunk his theories while he looked at her as a spy. This would be a chance for them to look into the actual truth and find out if any of Tad’s claims had validity. Their FBI issued badges would allow them access that had been previously closed off to Mulder and she knew that in itself would be advantageous.

“Scully, are you ready for this?” he asked her.

The darkness did things to both of them but it seemed to hurt her as it healed his psyche. He liked to peer into there and come out with an answer. She feared what they would find this time. Scientists trying to play God in backyard dog kennels or the holes in their relationship. It all hurt to think about.

Maybe it hurt the most because she felt so broken.

“I don’t think that we have a choice,” she said to him. There was a beat as they stood contemplating their upcoming assignments and she looked up at him. Skinner wanted to see them ASAP and they probably did need to get moving. “Do you... can I give you a ride to the Hoover building?”

Mulder smirked and she could see him wanting to tell a joke.

“Say it.”

“It was something about being a big, macho man but I don’t have to,” he said quietly.

When they got into her car, Scully looked at his hands as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Were you channelling Father Joe’s pleas while you vandalized my windshield?” Scully asked as she turned the ignition over on the SUV.

“I didn’t _vandalize_ …” Mulder scoffed and held up his index finger. “How much damage can a man do with that?”

Scully’s cheeks flushed as her mind thought of all the ways his hands touched her and how well that index finger had known her the day before.

“Um…” she started then they laughed uncomfortably.

"Right." Mulder said as he shifted in his seat. “Never mind… Drive, G-Woman.”


	7. Recruitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post My Struggle

The drive from Our Lady of Sorrows to the Hoover Building could have been less uncomfortable for them if things hadn’t come to blows in the living room of their home only two days before. Mulder had been giving Scully the space he thought she wanted but the heated conversation and passionate sex made him rethink the distance he had been giving her. What if, despite her actions and the distance, she missed him too?

He wouldn’t assume she had yearned for more between them based on her behaviour…. Mulder countered that thought that she had admitted to missing him when they spoke in the parking garage.

If it wasn’t for an outside source, he wouldn’t have thought to stop calling Scully. It was Christmas time and he had been prompted by his brother-in-law, Bill Jr., to let his sister move on if he wasn’t going to be the man she thought she was marrying. Instead of telling Bill to shove it, he downed his last drink of whiskey and thought long and hard about why he kept showing up at Scully’s door or letting her come home when she chose to leave.

It took one comment from a sour man to make him rethink how they were living their estrangement and he had never been so miserable as he had been in the last six months. It didn’t occur to him that she would be unhappy too and miss him just the same. If they had ever made love with such anger and passion in their lives, Mulder couldn’t recall when exactly. This was probably the most charged it had felt since they first began dating, after she saved him from the electric chair, and then again after they were married.

He was hoping she would always want him in her life. Working together again could be the catalyst they needed but he couldn’t depend on it. There was still so much left unsaid and her uncertainty in his obsessions destroyed her confidence in them as a couple.

“Are you listening to me, Mulder?” Scully asked as she turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue.

He looked over at her in the car and nodded slightly. He was half-listening and he could piece together the rest.

“ _Okay_ , I’ll start again…” she sighed.

As part of a pre-med class that Scully took, one course required students to break down their genome and write a report based on the markers they could detect. She explained that genetic testing looks for specific inherited changes or mutations in a person’s chromosomes, genes, or proteins. Genetic mutations can have harmful, beneficial, neutral or uncertain effects on health.

Classmates that didn’t know their family histories learned potential genetic markers in their own DNA such as cancer or Huntington’s disease. One student discovered during the project that his father was not actually his biological father. Mulder muttered he knew what that felt like and Scully cleared her throat in nervousness.

He didn’t have to guess that she was uncomfortable with the idea that CGB Spender and Jeffrey Spender were actually Mulder’s biological family more than Bill Mulder. It didn’t fill him with warm and fuzzy feelings either.

What Scully explained was that the genetic tests she did on herself were similar to the tests done when screening for cancer. Mutations that are harmful may increase a person’s chance or risk of developing a disease such as cancer. In medical school, Dana Scully had no markers or mutations to indicate she would face before her thirty-fifth birthday. Back then, he knew that she would have never guessed that a nasopharyngeal mass would almost take her life.

“I passed these tests on to my family doctor and kept them in my medical file,” Scully explained. “I requested that file today when I had my blood work done. Prior to my abduction, my genome had twenty three chromosome pairs in a cell nuclei, just like anyone else. The exception of this would be a child with Down syndrome or Jacobsen syndrome.”

“This extra pair here?” he said as he pointed to the results circled in red.

“Pre-abduction Scully did not have those genetic markers,” she said in a strange reference to herself in the third person. “That is alien or foreign DNA living in my body.”

She parked the car on 10th Street, half a block away from the Hoover building and unbuckled her seat belt to turn to him. Mulder undid his own and rest his back against the door of the car.

“What does this mean, Scully?” he asked. “Break down the science.”

“These chromosomes are not a disease but cells living inside my body. These cells have altered my DNA,” she explained. “I just don’t know how. Or to what end.”

“It’s not the cure to your cancer and it’s not cancer,” Mulder clarified and she shook her head. “What makes you believe it’s alien?”

“I know what the human genome looks like, Mulder,” she replied as she turned off the car. “It’s an extra pair of chromosomes that shouldn’t be there and their markers are not like anything I can identify.”

“Can you read minds?” he asked and she scoffed. “Sveta claimed she could.”

“If I could read minds or do any of the things she claimed, don’t you think I would have used that over the years?” she retorted. “Instead of… Mulder where are you going? Or, Mulder what are you doing here at 1 a.m. with a case file? I would just _know_.”

She had a point there.

“Maybe your alien DNA keeps you from getting sick again… I mean, Clyde Bruckman did say you’re immortal,” he mused and she rolled her eyes with a grin playing on her lips. Mind reading for him would be a handy tool, especially in times like these. Mulder’s phone buzzed again and he pulled it out to see another message from Skinner. “Skinman is getting impatient.”

“Maybe don’t call him that when we go up there,” she suggested as he tucked Scully’s genetic test into his jacket pocket.

The warm summer air and familiar smells of the downtown area gave Mulder a sense of deja vu. The late hour of the twilight sky hanging above them and a breeze scented with the cherry blossoms from along the Tidal Basin was calming and reassuring. As they passed through the still busy streets of D.C., Mulder thought to himself this was the kind of familiar he was happy with.

As they walked across the street towards the building, Scully’s heel caught on the red brick stone under her feet and Mulder’s hand instinctively reached out to steady her. She tucked her arm into his as they continued the rest of the way across the street, neither of them mentioning the contact. He wondered if this was for physical balance or this meant more to her, like their living room rendezvous two days previous. She admitted earlier that evening that she missed him but wasn’t ready to come home. He had stopped asking and promised her not to push the issue, however he was lonely without her too.

The security guard at the front desk was anticipating their arrival when they took out their ID’s to check in. Through the metal detectors without shoes and passing a wand inspection, they were given a security escort up to Skinner’s office.

The J. Edgar Hoover building had changed since their departure from the Bureau in 2001. There was even a slight alteration since 2008 including added security measures with FOB keys and secure lock doors that scanned agents in and out. After 9/11, the FBI moved under the blanket of Homeland Security and the war on terror became the top priority. Security within the building felt airtight, even at the late hour. The FBI had upgraded much of the drab walls and dusty floors that Mulder assumed was to keep anyone from having a happy thought. As they walked from the elevator car, Mulder noted that everything had a much nicer shine than he remembered it. Maybe that would change once the bureau began paying him but as a visitor, it wasn’t as sombre and faded as he remembered it.

The hallways were still lit with the same fluorescent bulbs but somehow shone dimmer at night. The former steno-pools now turned into monitoring stations and bullpens that normally housed busy agents as they competed to hear their own phone calls over each other were silent and still.

Inside Mulder’s jacket pocket were the test results that Scully had broken down for him in the car. He was feeling anxious about a lot of things, most especially what she had just shown him. This was not just about Sveta or Scully but William too. He began to wonder if there were other children born to women like Scully and as they approached Skinner’s office, he realized coming back to work would give him the chance to search for them.

As they walked down the quiet halls of the Bureau, Mulder wondered why they had been summoned at such a late hour. He wondered if it was out of urgency or secrecy. Neither option filled him with a solid feeling of hope or reassurance.

Skinner was standing inside the outer office reception area with four or five fellow agents. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s late.”

“Your message said urgent,” Scully said as they shook hands.

“With the state of affairs being what they are, we need to expedite your re-entry back into the FBI,” an agent spoke up.

Mulder turned to look at the salt and pepper hair of the unfamiliar agents in front of him and shook his head. “And what would that be?”

“Walter called us in to help speed up the process,” the man replied.

“ _Tonight_?” Mulder asked to the crowd. “I mean… Why?”

“I’m the Director of Resources, Lyle Wilkes. This is Doctor Toni Owens,” the man introduced himself and the woman who was waiting with Skinner. “We want to get you back into the Bureau as quickly as possible.”

Mulder’s mouth crooked up as he fought a smile. The FBI with all it’s formalities in the 90s usually insisted upon staff referring to each other by their titles. A lot had changed in the new millennium and he didn’t mind unless anyone tried to call him Fox. His first name never sounded natural coming from a superior’s mouth.

Skinner stood in his office doorway and held his hand out to usher them inside his office. “Please.”

“I would have put on a tie for this meeting but it didn’t go with my jacket,” Mulder commented as he walked by Skinner.

When they entered the office, the group took a seat at the conference table adjacent to the wall. Scully and Mulder took the two chairs opposite of Dr. Owens and Wilkes with Skinner sitting at the head of the table.

“You were saying?” Mulder prompted.

“Sveta Myska has gone missing and there is an FBI task force currently searching for her,” Agent Wilkes reported as he opened a file.

“We don’t know where she is,” Mulder replied.

“We want you to find her,” Skinner informed them and Scully and Mulder shared a look. “We want to put her into protective custody.”

“Why does the FBI want to ensure the safety of a young woman who has made claims against them?” Mulder asked.

“Sveta is part of something larger at work,” Skinner began as he glanced over to Wilkes and Owens. “Tad O’Malley is a very public profile. His claims against the government have gotten lot of attention and rattled cages here among the FBI. This is starting to get more focus than we want and if anything were to happen to Sveta-”

“It looks bad for the FBI,” Mulder finished for Skinner.

“Is the FBI going after Tad O’Malley?” Scully asked. “He’s made some claims about what the government has been plotting but if he’s in danger from an outside source, he should be protected.”

It irked Mulder just slightly that Scully was concerned about O’Malley. What did she care about him?

“Not at this moment,” Skinner answered as he glanced over to Mulder. “He refuses to go into hiding.”

Scully shifted in her seat. “I see.”

Dr. Owens opened the folder in front of her and clicked the ballpoint pen on to perch it at the top of her paper. She began writing across the yellow legal pad, making quick notes. Wilkes leaned over to read what she had written. Owens glanced over to Wilkes and then they nodded in unison.

Mulder wanted to make a dry, inappropriate comment about the way they were in sync like Stepfords but thought better of it. When he glanced over to Scully, she was giving him a look like she had already heard his comment. The edge of her mouth crooked up slightly before she sat straighter in her seat. Maybe she couldn’t read all minds but she seemed to know what he was thinking.

“Is there paperwork you need us to fill out?” Scully asked as she turned back to Skinner.

He slid two files across to Scully and Mulder. “You need to update all of this and then Dr. Owens will take you for a psych eval. Wilkes will be arranging your qualifiers at Quantico. We need to get you two started ASAP.”

“I have some patients and research work I’m assisting on. I can’t just leave the hospital…” Scully began. “I had a family commitment this weekend that I am expected to attend.”

His brain tried to think about what or where she could be going. It was June and Maggie’s birthday was in June. There was an envelope with Maggie’s clean penmanship on a stack of unopened mail in his kitchen that might have something to do with what Scully was talking about. He made a mental note not to ignore the mail again when he got home.

Skinner breathed out through his nose. “When can you be available?”

“I should be free by next Monday,” Scully replied.

“My schedule is wide open,” he offered. Mulder opened his file to see his previous ID tucked inside with his work history with the FBI. “I guess a change of address will need to be put in here.”

“Agent Mulder, do you have a valid driver’s license?” Wilkes asked.

“I do…” he began. “I just need to get a car.”

“See that you take care of that,” Skinner informed him.

Mulder began to fill in the specific paperwork and paused when they asked for a marital status. “Uh, sir, can we have a minute?”

“You and I?” he clarified.

Mulder shook his head and decided to choose his words carefully. “ _Dana_ and myself.”

He looked over to Scully who seemed to be caught up on the same question and she stood up slowly.

“We’ll just be out in the hall,” Mulder said as he put a hand on Scully’s elbow to walk out.

“I don’t think they need to know the status of our relationship,” she said the moment the door closed on them. “And before you can obsess over why, there was an FBI policy when we were with the Bureau in the 90s about married couples working together.”

“They didn’t allow divorced women to work for the FBI and I know that’s an antiquated policy they have since thrown out,” Mulder countered. “I just didn’t want to mention it if you didn’t want them to know.”

Scully’s tongue wet her bottom and top lip as she contemplated his offer. He really wished she wouldn’t draw more attention to her lips, especially when he didn’t know if he had the freedom to kiss them.

“Maybe they already know and now we look like we’re trying to hide something,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Skinner never mentioned it when he and I spoke earlier.”

“If they can’t let us work together because we got married then-”

Skinner opened the door just then. “We know you’re married. Come on back in.”

Scully’s cheeks pinked and she shook her head at Mulder in frustration.

“Dr. Owens will keep it confidential and Wilkes has promised not to release the information. You two can stop worrying,” Skinner said as they walked back into his office. “Have a seat.”

They finished with their joint interview and completed their paperwork that was needed. Dr. Owens took Scully and Mulder into her office on the eighth floor individually. Mulder admitted straight off the bat that he was apprehensive how much he should share with her.

“The FBI isn’t privy to my notes unless there is something that alarms me,” Dr. Owens informed him. “Is there something I _should_ be alarmed by?”

Mulder thought for a beat. “I will admit that I fought some big demons when it came to my search into the paranormal and the global conspiracy. This is the very conspiracy that Skinner had asked me back to ensure wasn’t actually happening.”

Dr. Owens nodded with a kind smile. “I know all that, Mr. Mulder but I find that when we lack the resources to stomp out what frightens us, they can become an overwhelming agency in our own lives. Maybe it would have been better if you came back to work for the FBI when you were sure the world would end.”

“Scully - uh… my wife, wasn’t really a fan of the darkness it brought us,” Mulder replied, stumbling over referring to his former partner as such.

“What I mean is that this office allowed you the access with the flash of your badge to information that was restricted or classified,” Dr. Owens clarified. “If A.D. Skinner is asking you back, he must have the same fears of something sinister being afoot.”

Mulder nodded. “I would like to think it wasn’t. I want to believe that there are paranormal things in our universe that we can’t deny and explain away with what science knows about it.”

“Isn’t that what Dr. Scully was assigned to do?” Dr. Owens countered.

“I’m not crazy but she added a level of sanity to the work and in my life. She made me work for all the wins I had. I wouldn’t have any validity to all the work I did without her,” Mulder answered.

He could speak highly about her without lying and that said a lot. He wondered if Scully could be as free with her speech or chose her words about him carefully.

“Would it be difficult to work alongside her since you live at separate residences?” Dr. Owens asked as she scratched along her notepad with her quick pen. “I noticed on your paperwork that you listed different residences.”

“We work well with each other regardless of our relationship status,” Mulder replied quietly. “Sometimes _in spite_ of it.”

“What do you think is happening, Mr. Mulder?” she asked as she looked up from her paper.

Mulder shook his head. “I think what I used to assume was an alien invasion was actually the work of a group of men in a syndicate to orchestrate fear among the people they govern in order to control and subjugate them into obedience.”

There was a beat in the air as the words that he spoke hung between them. He sounded paranoid, he knew that. He couldn’t be dissuaded from his theory, no matter what the company and he wasn’t going to fake it through this interview.

“Then I guess with our top priority being counterterrorism and that would classify as such, you must be in the right place,” Dr. Owens replied as she shut her folder. “Send your partner in here, would you?”

Mulder nodded and placed his hands on the arms of the chair before pushing himself up. “Wait. Did I pass?”

“You have a polygraph to take at Quantico but I can see that you’re not a danger to yourself or others. You’re still the brilliant profiler that we know and you’re the only person I can think of to get to the bottom of what’s going on with the scenario A.D. Skinner filled us in on.” Dr. Owens stated and clicked her pen open. “Since 9/11, the FBI has created methodical and careful considerations to producing the best agents from Quantico to analyze and predict criminal behaviour. That being said, not everyone has the ability to make leaps the way you and Dr. Scully have been able to do.”

“I have to pass the physical exam again, don’t I?” Mulder just remembered.

“That’s right,” Dr. Owens nodded. “Send Dr. Scully in, please.”

Mulder left Dr. Owens’ office and Scully stood up quickly as he exited into the hallway. He pointed over his shoulder as he took a few steps towards her. “Just a heads up, we have to pass the physical exam at Quantico next week.”

Scully smoothed her hands down the front of her suit. “I’ve been running.”

“You seem _fit_ …” Mulder started and then shook his head.

He got a pretty good look at her while they were tearing each other’s clothes off to see that she was still toned everywhere despite her age. They both were in good shape for being middle aged and he frowned at the thought of his life being halfway over with his life’s work left unfulfilled.

“Is something wrong?” she asked tentatively.

“I know that coming back to the FBI is personal for you-”

“It didn’t hurt my decision to come back,” she interrupted.

“But besides that… do you have any qualms about leaving medicine again for this?” Mulder asked her.

She opened her mouth to reply when Dr. Owens opened her door.

“Dana?” she prompted. “Come on in.”

Mulder checked his watch. “I’m going to call a car to take me back to the house.”

Scully shook her head slightly. “I’ll drive you.”

“I don’t mind,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll see you at Quantico on Monday.”

There was a look on her face as he turned to walk down the hall. He didn’t want to hear right now that this was just a sabbatical and she was going to leave him again once they found justice. Even worse, if they found William and neither of them wanted anything to do with him.

The feelings of uncertainty with Scully weren’t his own. He knew what he wanted. He had asked her time and time again to come home but she wasn’t willing. After the last six months of being more apart than together, he worried she was going to slip away from him completely. At least with their work, he could still see her.

Mulder called a car service to take him home and along the way, he looked up the car dealership where Scully picked up her SUV. When he arrived at home, there was a blinking light on the answering machine in the kitchen.

He pressed the red light on the small box and the antiquated system of the small tape rewound as it began to play the messages from the beginning.

“ _First message_!” the machine announced.

“ _Mulder, it's me,_ ” Scully began with a sigh and he could picture her sitting in her car as she left this message. “ _Call me when you get home. We need to talk_.”

He groaned audibly at her use of that phrase. “I’ll bet we do.”

“ _It’s Monday at… four p.m.,_ ” she said and let out a long breath. “ _I… I just need to speak with you._ ”

Mulder had seen her since then so he shrugged off not calling her back. He opened the fridge and pulled a cold amber bottle from the door. The air hissed as it escaped the bottle when he twisted off the cap and he tossed the small disk into the sink. It landed with a loud clink against the plate he left from his lunch.

“ _Next message!_ ”

“ _Fox_ ,” the small voice came through the phone and Mulder crossed the kitchen towards the machine. “ _Fox, it’s Maggie. My birthday is on Saturday and the kids are throwing an unnecessary party for me. There is an invitation in your stack of unopened mail._ ”

Mulder found the aforementioned envelope and tore it open. A professionally printed invitation on cream glossy card stock paper with elegant black writing announcing the party and location.

Maggie paused as she could probably foresee Mulder doing exactly what he was doing.

“ _Fox… It’s my birthday and I won’t take no for an answer_ ,” Maggie told him.

“I’m sure,” Mulder replied to himself.

“ _We’ll see you there_ ,” Maggie said before hanging up.

In the closet off the living room, a gift for his mother-in-law was waiting to be presented to her for this occasion. Mulder had contemplated having it delivered with flowers and a card that sent his apologies for not going.

Instead, he made a plan to purchase his car tomorrow and get a shirt pressed for the party. Being driven around by hired cars was growing tiring. Mulder never liked waiting on other people for anything and if he was going to be out at Quantico, he didn’t want to look like a pompous ass when he showed up with a hired driver.

“Right,” he prompted himself and found the newspaper from that morning.

He took a red pen out and started looking through the classifieds for used vehicles. Almost a decade ago, he discovered his Jeep through this paper and it could very well be lucky again.

As he nursed his beer and read through the ads, he discovered that most of the vehicles were ‘summer cars’ such as convertibles and open-top Jeeps. Even if it had been almost twenty years, he couldn’t very well buy a convertible after giving Scully a hard time about renting one in Maine.

He found the heavily advertised section in the front of the paper and discovered that Ford was having some kind of special. It seemed like car dealerships were always having a special or a deal but since it was the first ad he saw, he decided to go with that.

Mulder finished the last of his beer and walked towards the living room where he recalled the angry and heated sex with Scully. They weren’t quiet or gentle with one another that night. There was a lot pent-up frustration and acrimony they had suppressed over the years. Truth be told, he and Scully weren’t always the best communicators. How else could they be estranged, living in separate residences and still appreciating a somewhat regular sex life?

Maybe the problem with them was that the sex between them still worked. He might have less faith in their reconciliation if at least once when they were together, it wasn’t passionate and filled with fervour. It would be easier if she didn’t turn him on so much or she didn’t respond to his touch.

He looked at the table that had held her weight as he fucked her on it and shook his head at himself. He had been rough on her and he should apologize for using her body that way. He never wanted to hurt her through sex. It had been years since he tore underwear off of her body but those were out of times when their impatience to be together was more mutual.

Mulder walked back into the kitchen and began washing the dishes he had left in the sink from that day. After he finished the cutlery, he polished off the last of his beer and walked through the house towards his office. Different newspaper clippings covered the walls from when Scully approached to ask him to help the FBI in exchange for his freedom. This time, he was coming back because it wasn’t just his profiling and expertise into the paranormal but to hopefully look deeper into an actual conspiracy that threatened the public. They were both necessary to find out what was really going on. Even though he didn’t know where they stood, at least he could rely on their work.

Mulder took another beer up to the bedroom and stared at the bed he had made after the last time Scully spent the night. He had been sleeping on his office couch for the last six months and he supposed it was time to put fresh linens on and face a night in the bed alone.

He took another pull from his beer, set the bottle on the tallboy dresser and got to work.

 

***** *** *****

 

The rain that poured down over Virginia on Friday night had subsided by the time Mulder had woke up the following morning. The streets and highways were clean as he ran six miles after a good breakfast. He felt the air pump through his lungs with ease and he knew that when his physical assessment came on Monday morning, he would be ready.

He took a cab to the Ford dealership twenty minutes away, prepared to leave that morning with a new vehicle. Mulder arrived at the lot when they opened and looked at a few vehicles before going on a test drive. A blue Taurus was being wiped down with a rag when he walked in and he decided that if he was going to spend one more minute in one of those cars, it would be on the FBI’s dime and not his own. He walked past the Mustang because he could see Scully rolling her eyes at him if he pulled into his parking stall in such a vehicle. Men don’t want to be thought of as idiots any more than they already are. Eventually, he concluded that an SUV would probably be the best on the highway for his commute no matter what the season.

When he drove off the lot in his Ford Edge, he felt like he was starting to put the pieces of his life back together. He slept in his bed alone for the first time in months and awoke without feeling utterly wrecked that he was alone. It was progress for him.

He decided to stop at the barber shop before heading home. He ran a hand across his jaw and realized he should shave before the party too. It would go a long way to show Bill that he wasn’t just some unemployed bum that was holding his sister back.

When he arrived back at the house, he placed the present for Maggie in the trunk and got himself ready to head out to Wilton and Greene Country Club. The phone rang as he exited the shower and he crossed the bedroom to pick up the portable receiver.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Fox,” a small voice came through.

“Hi Mrs. Scully,” he replied as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Fox,” she said with a warning tone.

There was some noise and commotion in the background behind her. He assumed that her sons had flown in for the party. He tried to listen for Dana’s voice but didn’t hear anything, just kids and men talking.

“It feels strange to call you by your first name,” he admitted after a beat.

“I call you by yours,” she pointed out.

“You got me there,” he chuckled. “Okay, Maggie it is.”

“I didn’t hear back from you about whether or not you were coming,” she began.

“I am. I’m coming,” he said. “I should have RSVP’d. That’s bad on me.”

“It was bad,” she admonished him. “But you’re forgiven.”

“I had something dry cleaned and I’m about to shave,” he said. “I’ll fit right in with your adoring guests.”

Maggie sighed and he could hear the fatigue in her voice. “I didn’t want a big party, you know. This is extravagant and an over the top celebration for getting old. I don’t even want presents or all of this. They could have just made me dinner.”

“Let your kids make a fuss over you,” he said warmly. “It’s the _least_ they can do after all you’ve done for them.”

The problem with his advice was that the Scully women weren’t used to having a fuss made over them or being the centre of attention. He learned that one of the reasons Dana wasn’t interested in a big wedding was the focus and concentration placed on a bride for the entire day. Dana appreciated the written accolades in medical journals where she didn’t have a crowd of eyes watching her. She inherited that trait from her mother.

Mulder wondered if Dana was bringing a date but he thought better than to ask. When Scully still lived with him, it was one thing when he and Maggie went for lunch to talk about Dana’s job. They both saw that it was hard on her, however discussing her life now would cross a boundary he knew was wrong.

“Well, I better go,” Maggie said with a sigh. “I still have to get into my party dress.”

“Me too,” he joked. “I hope we don’t show up in the same gown.”

The line clicked off as Maggie laughed and he walked back to the bathroom to stare at himself in the mirror for a beat.

“It’s just a party,” he said to himself in the mirror. He ran a washcloth under hot water and pressed the warm fabric into his skin. “If she has a date, you can at least know she’s over you. If she’s alone…. you can apologize for the other day.”

Mulder covered his face with foam and ran his razor under the water. When he held his hand up to his cheek, he felt a tremor in his hand. He took a calming breath and tried to steady his nerves.

“It is _just_ a party,” he repeated and pulled the razor down his cheek. “And if she has a date, you can punch him in the face.”

Scully wasn’t the type of woman to make a fool out of Mulder and he knew that. He gave her the benefit of the doubt as she had given him all those times before. Suddenly, he was in a better mood about his upcoming evening.

Mulder put on his leather jacket and looked at himself in the mirror before he walked out the door. He pursed his lips slightly and double checked for shaving cream around his ears. He straightened his tie and brushed his hands along his dark jeans. He caught his eyes in the mirror again and new he was stalling.

“Get moving, Spooky.”


	8. Maggie's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated Nov 3
> 
> Set post My Struggle

Mulder looked around the large dining room of the Wilton and Greene Country Club and scanned the crowd for the guest of honour. He had some apprehensions about coming to the party but there he was, gift in hand and ready to wish the lady in question a happy birthday. As promised, he was clean-shaven with a fresh haircut. He put on a freshly dry cleaned shirt and arrived only sixty minutes after the event began. This was minimal effort for some but a marathon for a man who was feeling less than stellar.

“Fox,” a woman’s voice called and he turned to see her. Her hair was a little lighter but still the same curls. “Fox, how are you?”

Mulder smiled warmly at her and they met for a quick hug as they had grown accustomed to over the years. Maggie Scully was not shy with her affection and showered Mulder with it often. He wondered if she was trying to make up in some way for kindness he failed to receive as a teen. At family dinners or when meeting them for coffee, she hugged, kissed and praised him in a way he never knew under Teena and Bill Mulder's roof. He never tired of that.

“I’m fine, Maggie. How are you?”

“You sound just like Dana,” Maggie said with a roll of her eyes. “She’s been telling me she’s fine too but she looks just as sad as you.”

Mulder didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. He held up the gift and placed it into her small hands. Why were the Scully women so petite?

“Thank you!” Maggie pulled him towards a set of arm chairs and sat down. “Sit, Fox.”

Mulder did as instructed and tried not to notice the number of eyes that were observing them. The party was a semi-casual event and he was grateful he chose to wear nice jeans, a dress shirt and tie with a suit vest. The leather jacket was a bit of an overkill for the summer heat so he left it in the car.

There was a band at the left side of the dining hall playing swing music Mulder was sure he had heard before at a dinner party Maggie Scully hosted three years ago. She liked to play Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin and Nat King Cole the way Scully played Bach or Chopin.

“I know you said I didn’t need to buy you a present but Dana mentioned this-” Mulder began.

“Oh my god!” Maggie gasped and pulled out two teacups and saucers with hand-stitched gold painted on the trim and a wedding date printed on the inside.

The out of print china matched the set in Maggie Scully’s own dining room. Admittedly, it was an extravagant gift to have made for her but she was worth it.

“Fox... This is too much,” she protested. “How did you afford this?”

Apparently, the money that Mulder had been less than forthcoming about with Scully hadn’t been discussed with Maggie.

”Birthday gifts of this magnitude are only too much if the person receiving them isn’t worthy,” he assured her. “There’s a complete set of 16 but I just brought the two inside. The rest are in my car. I just thought this would be easier-”

Maggie cut Mulder off by leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “This was very thoughtful, Fox. I love it.”

“Mom,” a familiar voice approached them and Mulder’s insides tightened.

Bill Scully Jr. was never a fan of Mulder’s no matter what the romantic situation. Would he be happy to see him or angry now that his sister left him? Mulder made eye contact with the cool blue eyes and a familiar disappointment flashed across Bill’s face.

“Mister Mulder.”

“Hi Bill,” Mulder stood to shake Bill’s hand and he did so reluctantly.

Obviously, he had been warned by his mother to be on best behaviour and, ever the good soldier, would not show any disrespect in front of the matriarch of the Scully family.

“Dana said they want to do the cake now,” Bill reported.

Mulder's eyes immediately scanned the crowd for Scully and found himself disappointed when he wasn't able to spot her.

Bill held out his hand to help Maggie stand but she handed the gift box to him before taking Mulder’s arm.

“I didn’t know you were invited,” Bill said quietly as they walked towards the back of the hall where a group was gathering around.

“Your mom called to ask me,” Mulder replied. “Twice. I know how you feel about me, Bill. I’ll stay for cake and go.”

"Stay as long as she wants you to," Bill muttered. "Just keep in mind you're a-"

“Holy shit, you’re Fox Mulder,” a man who was the perfect mix of all the Scully children approached them and shook Mulder’s hand. He was the same height as Bill but a bit more muscular than his older brother. His other arm was carrying a little girl in a pink and yellow flower printed dress. He would have guessed the little girl was about four if he remembered back to Emily. “I’m Charlie Scully.”

“I thought you only existed in myths,” Mulder replied with a smile. 

Bill Scully left them in a huff and Charlie shook his head at his brother's behaviour. 

“Ah, and yet here I am," he said and rubbed the back of the little girl. "We never really make it to these things, my relationship with Bill being what it is.”

Mulder’s eyebrows shot up. “Dana never really mentioned why-”

“It’s a long story,” Charlie interrupted and Mulder could see a lot of Melissa in the man standing in front of him. “We came for Mom and Bill has to be on his best behaviour tonight so… I don’t know. Speaking of best…This is Hannah. Hannah can you say hi to Mulder?"

Shining blue eyes looked up at him and Mulder tried not to take a step back. This little girl, save for the blonde hair, could have been Scully as a child.

"Hi," a small voice greeted. 

Mulder smiled. "Hi."

"I'm glad you could come," Charlie said, rubbing Hannah's back and swaying slightly. Mulder wondered when that habit stopped with parents, constantly rocking children and soothing them. "I always said you were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to my sister."

"I tried not to be the latter," Mulder muttered.

"That's what love is sometimes... I think the worst part is she doesn't realize the first part," Charlie said, shaking his head. "I know you've done a lot for her. Bill thinks you've done it to her but I know my sister. She's more stubborn than all of us and she wouldn't have stayed with you all those years unless you made her happy."

"I kind of fucked up," Mulder admitted as he looked around the crowd again and then glanced to Hannah. “Sorry.”

"So, fix it," Charlie said simply. "You both know you've been through too much to end it. You two deserve each other in all the good and bad ways there are. Mom thinks so too."

It was then when he spotted her. He memorized every detail just in case it would be the last time he saw her in a casual setting and their relationship after this point was purely professional. A capped-sleeve navy blue wrap dress fit her body like a second skin and he looked down to see grey peek-toe wedges with painted pink toe nails. She held a champagne flute and stood next to Tara, Bill's wife. He couldn't decide if she was trying to kill him or she was dressing like this for herself. Or worse, if she had a date with her and she wore it for the Republican asshole.

Mulder thought about their conversation in the Our Lady of Sorrows parking garage. She had made it clear by lack of communicating with him that their angered sex against a wall in their house, correction his house, did not mend any fences. It didn't change that she had left and he was alone. If they could serve the cake, he could go home and never leave the house again.

"You should talk to her," Charlie encouraged gently. "She misses you."  
   
"When we saw one another a few days ago, we said some things we shouldn't have," Mulder explained, leaving out more than just a few details.  
   
He couldn't stop looking at her and if she could feel his eyes on her, she wasn't showing it. Unless... A flush crept up her neck and she looked directly passed Charlie to him.  
   
"She saw you when you first came in and she made the same face you're making now," Charlie whispered. "You guys need to get your shit together."  
   
"Auntie Dana loves Molder," Hannah piped up, emphasizing the "O" on his name and Charlie laughed.  
   
"Who told you that?" Mulder asked, suddenly realizing the power of little kids hanging around. Their lack of filter to the truth and accuracy of the facts could be really useful.  
   
"Everyone," Hannah sighed, as though the problems of adults were far more complicated than they should be. "Nanna told me. Mommy. Auntie Tara. Auntie Dana."  
   
" _Even_ Auntie Dana told you she loves Mulder?" Mulder asked, delighted. "She said she _loves_ me?"  
   
"Yeah, but she said you have to get your head out of your-"  
   
Charlie covered her mouth quickly. "Okay! Let's go get some cake!"  
   
The youngest Scully brother set his daughter down and took her by the hand through the crowd. Scully, seeing Mulder's sudden solitary state made the small gesture of a smile and Mulder waved awkwardly.  
   
Scully set her glass down on a table and walked slowly towards him. He took a few steps towards her where they met gradually and painfully in the middle.  
   
They reached for one another, their fingers interlacing briefly before Mulder impulsively pulled her towards him in an embrace. Her arms reached around his waist and in that crowded room, they had a private moment of silent apologies and forgiveness of past actions. Not the actions themselves but maybe the lack of tenderness in which he treated her and she to him.  
   
Mulder let her pull away first, always willing to hold on to her as long as she needed it, and searched her face.  
   
"I'm sorry," he said. “About… leaving you at the Bureau and the other day.”

He meant about the roughness in which he took her in the living room.  
   
"I'm not entirely upset about the other day," she said and he believed her.  
   
He worried there would be resentment for the way they avoided talking about what happened but that wasn't really their style to hash it out, to put it on the table. That would be too emotionally raw and healthy for the enigmatic Dana Scully.  
   
They met in an underground parking lot, discussing what could possibly happen if they moved forward with investigating Sveta's disappearance. He asked her if she was ready and she told him there wasn't a choice. She still meant it. But things were at a stalemate at the moment and Mulder's investigation was going nowhere. The FBI wanted them to re-qualify and suit up next week. Emotional entanglements would only be a hinderance to their progress with this case but that didn’t change that they needed to sort out what they were doing.  
   
A cake was wheeled out on a delicate silver cart - four tiers with fondant flowers and a large 75 on the top. Maggie was laughing and telling friends she didn't understand the point of having a big party for someone who had just turned an odd number but there they were. It was a moment for any happy family and of course, it felt completely out of place for Mulder to be a part of it. As good as things ever became with he and Scully, this was a high moment of happiness that he felt like he didn’t belong in. He anticipated being punched in the face by Bill or Scully to tell him to drop dead.  
   
When the cake was being handed out, he turned to Scully. "We should talk."  
   
"That sounds a little out of character for us," she teased and took his hand again. "Yeah, you're right. Come on."  
   
As the crowd was focused on eating the fluffy chocolate cake with rich hazelnut mocha frosting, Scully took Mulder outside the large hall. Several children were running through the corridor and Mulder looked around in annoyance.  
   
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into one of the bathrooms and locked the door.  
   
The cream and maroon wallpaper hurt Mulder's eyes and he wondered if every country club had the same interior designer. He could remember the orange and teal colour palette of the 1970s, hiding in bathrooms instead of being forced to dance with any of the young women his parents tried to set him up with. They all had the same furniture. A small couch, toilet, sink, vanity and full-length mirror. Cream hand towels with W&G embroidered in navy blue adorned every countertop and rack.  
   
"We could have just gone to your car to talk," she pointed out.  
   
"Sorry," he said and reached for the door but her hand stopped him. "No?"  
   
"Mulder," she shook her head as if to say I don't know. "We're _here_."  
   
"I'm sorry about last time," he repeated.  
   
Scully sat on the small grey love seat and pulled him down to sit next to her. "I told you, I'm not."  
   
"You and I have never... not like that," he said. "I know nothing has changed."  
   
"I can't be at home with you," she explained. "I'm not ready to go back there like that. Not yet."  
   
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, the worry evident in his voice.  
   
He meant physically. She was emotionally wrecked, he knew that, but the physical force of which he fucked her was also playing on his mind.  
   
Scully took his hand in hers and shook her head. "Not in the way you think."  
   
There was yelling and shouting outside the door. All happy noises of cousins and friends playing nonsensical games that don't translate to adults. The uncomplicated emotions of childhood were truly fantastic. Mulder used to wonder if his life would be as dark if Samantha hadn't been taken but there would have been some other family tragedy. He was marked for that darkness to find him. So was she.  
   
"Mulder?"  
   
The expression on her face was full of sorrow and worry. Did he make her happy at all or was there only sadness between them? She couldn't hide that part of him, even through the brave faces she put on for her family.  
   
"Your niece Hannah told me some very _interesting_ things," Mulder said, drawing a line up her arm with his finger. "You told a four-year-old I had my head stuck up my ass?"  
   
Scully laughed. "I might have used better language with her but her father has a penchant for profanity."  
   
"He's not the only Scully with a colourful way of putting things but I can't imagine that kind of talk being kosher at his dental practice," Mulder replied and Scully had a wry smile. "She looks just like you."  
   
"She looks like my brother," Scully retorted.  
   
" _No_ , she looks like you, like-" Mulder stopped himself before he could say Emily. It was silent for a beat and Mulder cleared his throat. "She looks like you but with blonde hair."  
   
"Charlie and Lucy were blonde as kids," Scully explained of her younger brother and sister-in-law. Mulder nodded slowly. "She's really amazing. She's already reading, knows how to write her name."  
   
"Your mom told me you read early too. I think it was at Christmas six years ago when she showed me all your baby pictures," Mulder mentioned and Scully's cheeks coloured a little. "I learned all about little Dana running in the back woods with her brothers, skinning her knees and doing everything early."  
   
"Not everything," Scully said with a roll of her eyes as she adjusted the neckline on her dress.

Mulder recalled Scully telling him about the lack of her bust line during her teen years and the teasing she was forced to endure. Kids could be cruel.  
   
"You did all right for yourself," he teased, giving her a familiar leer and they laughed.  
   
He looked into her eyes and pulled her to him. When he pressed his mouth to hers, she opened her lips slightly while her tongue darted to touch his. She tasted like champagne and something else so familiar. It was more than chaste but full of promise.  
   
"I'm sorry," he repeated.  
   
"Me too."  
   
They met again yet this kiss was full of intent. It wasn't a kiss of repeated forgiveness. This was a kiss of progression towards sex. Her fingers tangled into his hair, keeping him close. It was more familiar to their heated kiss in his living room but not as rough. The fervour inside him grew and he wanted to take it beyond a simple kiss.  
   
He didn't ask to talk to her so they could fuck in a bathroom but maybe they both needed this. Something to make up for the last time and absolve them of any wrongdoing to one another's bodies. The last time was hard and unforgiving compared to what they preferred as a thing of relief and comfort.  
   
Mulder pulled her more flush to him and he moved his hands from her arms to her shoulders then down her back, feeling the muscles underneath the thin material of her dress. He wanted to touch her everywhere.  
   
It was easy to forget how quickly things could progress with them. He remembered when a few quick kisses in the morning could turn into sex on the kitchen counters or laying on the couch in the afternoon became heavy petting and passionate. Their bodies, like their minds, would always respond to one another. He would want her, and only her, always.

If he was being honest with himself, maybe he didn't forget as much as he vehemently denied himself those memories in only an act of self-preservation. It hurt too much to think about her and what they shared.  
   
Mulder moved his hand to her stomach, up her torso and closed one palm over her breast. He could feel her nipples perked underneath the fabric of her dress and she sighed happily. He hoped once she felt his hands on her that she wouldn't want to stop themselves from what they were doing in there. When he hugged her at the party, he hoped she would need more from him than an embrace and conversation. Sometimes he hated that need for physical contact but that’s what twenty-five years with someone does to a man. It draws you in and builds your desire for them in ways you could never imagine.  
   
This would be another indiscretion, another moment of passions becoming too difficult to ignore and desires needing to be fulfilled. Scully pulled at the buckle on his belt and sank down to her knees to work on his jeans. It took her only a moment to free him from the denim confinement and take his fully-engorged member into her mouth.  
   
"Oh _fuck_!" he cried out and Scully hummed, reaching up and placing a hand over his mouth. They locked eyes for a moment and she held one finger up to her lips. He winced at his mistake. "Sorry."  
   
Scully put her face back down to his lap and circled her tongue around the head of his cock before wrapping her lips around his flesh. Her mouth began it's slow vertical ascent and descent. He groaned quietly as she paused at the tip, hollowing her cheeks and increasing the pressure of her suction. She took him all the way down to her throat and back up again. Each time, it felt like her suction was stronger and harder.

_How did she do that?_

It was delicious to feel her mouth on him with the power and softness that her lips and tongue composed sensations across his flesh. She repeating the action three more times before Mulder pulled on her shoulder, silently begging for her to stop. She was too good at that and he wanted her too badly for it to be over after five minutes in the bathroom.  
   
He helped her to stand and opened her dress, unwrapping the material from around her body and marvelling at the black slip underneath. He breathed her given name like a prayer, a rare but not unheard of occurrence during ardent moments. "Dana..."  
   
"This old thing?" she said, tossing her dress onto the couch next to Mulder and stepping out of her heels. Her pink toenails were making him crazy and he didn't know why.  
   
"I've said this before... but your body could be my religion," Mulder said and looked up in surprise to see her biting her lip. Usually, such a compliment would cause her to roll her eyes but maybe today she believed him.  
   
It wasn’t a secret that such compliments made her feel foolish but he meant them. She might not ever trust in the paranormal the way he did but she accepted when he told her he felt and saw things, especially when he was talking about her. As much as she didn't look at herself as a beautiful woman, she knew in his eyes she was. After telling her for over twenty years, he could safely assume she believed in God and how he saw her. She was everything to him and he tried to make her feel that way as often as possible. Once during a vulnerable moment, Scully confessed to him that it was consuming and suffocating but as much as she needed air, she needed to be desired by him. They used each other like a crutch and he had no qualms about it. He could accept that completely if she was willing to come home.  
   
His hands slid up her thighs to pull her panties down her legs. He felt delighted to find she was wearing a matching set of lacy material to her slip. Two fingers slipped between her thighs and she saw her her knees almost buckle from beneath her. Mulder held her waist tightly and continued to work on her body.  
   
He worked his thumb in a circle around her clit while two fingers pumped in and out of her, watching her face contort with pleasure. He worked her nerves slowly and expertly, knowing the spot to touch with his fingers inside. Her body was shaking and she gripped tighter onto his shoulders as he brought her body to orgasm. Her breath came out in quiet huffs and when he looked up, he saw her covering her mouth, purposely muffling her moans.  
   
He placed a kiss on her mound, breathing in her scent and slowly helped her to lay on the floor. "Is this okay?"  
   
Scully nodded and opened her legs more to accommodate him. Mulder pulled his jeans down further and settled himself between the valley of her thighs. He kissed her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She was ready for him, not surprisingly. Using her mouth on him was excellent foreplay as it was for him.  
   
Mulder took himself in his hand and grazed the head of his cock along her swollen folds. She reached between them and rubbed her fingers along her labia, spreading her juices over her lips before sticking a slick finger inside his mouth.  
   
As he sucked on her finger, he pushed his way inside slowly and carefully, burying himself to the hilt. Mulder released her finger from his mouth and pressed his face into her neck as he started a slow, lazy pumping. Her legs wrapped around his waist to urge him to stay inside.

“What is about you that makes me feel so reckless?” she asked quietly.

“At least we locked the door,” Mulder managed to grunt as he moved above her.  
   
"I've had this song stuck in my head for two days," Scully whispered, her words punctuated by each thrust of his hips into hers.  
   
"What?" Mulder had no idea what she could possibly want to discuss at this moment.  
   
"Helpless by Neil Young," she breathed, moving one hand to her breast while the other braced the floor. Mulder was pushing them along the tile and she had no leverage to keep them stationary.  
   
Mulder stopped moving and looked down at her. "Are you fucking kidding?"  
   
" _Blue blue windows behind the stars_ ," she whispered. "I can't stop thinking about it."  
   
"I was listening to that on my way here," he said and pumped in and out of her a few times. "I had the tune in my head but I finally recognized the lyric."  
   
"What does that mean?" she asked, her breath coming out in punctuated huffs.  
   
"Couldn't be more metaphoric for this," he said and kissed her lips.  
   
They tasted her on his tongue and Mulder moved himself to tug on her hand. He wanted her to come again and in this position, it would mean some work on her part. She rubbed her middle finger across her clitoris, working herself to swell and grip his cock. It felt so good to be inside her. In any other scenario, this would be less than ideal for an orgasm for her but her body was responding to everything he was doing. Maybe she wanted him like this as much as he wanted her.

With the party going on outside the door and lack of care they've paid to one another in the previous months, this wasn’t what he planned when they came in here. He wanted to make amends and clear the air. Right now her hands were in his hair and she was urging him on with soft moans. It was overwhelming as much as it was frightening that they could be caught.  
   
"Scully," he grunted.  
   
A knock on the door that was now one foot from her head, shocked them and they looked at the mahogany barrier.  
   
"Is someone in here?" a faint voice called.

Mulder immediately recognized it as Scully’s Aunt Olive. Shit.  
   
"Just a second, Aunt Olive," Scully called.  
   
"I'll try another one," Olive murmured and her footsteps retreated on the hardwood floors.  
   
Their eyes met and a moment of humour passed between them before Mulder took up his rhythm.  
   
"Come on, Scully," he encouraged and she moved her finger back across her clit. “Come on.”  
   
He was close, the sheen of sweat on his forehead a telltale sign. Maybe it was the fact that he was almost fully clothed while he was pounding into her in a warm bathroom. It caught them both by surprise and he felt her inner muscle clamp down as he found himself tumbling into ecstasy. His eyes shut tight in an attempt to keep sound from escaping his mouth.  
   
Mulder held himself above her as he felt his orgasm continue to shudder through his body. He wanted to do that every day of his life if he could, just maybe in a different location like a bed.

The noises from the children in the corridor brought them back to reality and Scully tapped Mulder on the shoulder. He pulled himself off of her and grabbed one of the overpriced hand towels to clean up with.  
   
She used the toilet while he cleaned himself off, thankful that nothing got on his jeans. Not that it mattered to him but walking out of the bathroom with the evidence of their union on his pants would surely get him a sock in the jaw from Bill.

He helped her tie the sash on her dress, kissing her shoulders and throat as he tied the belt into a bow.  
   
"I miss you," he admitted.

He said he wouldn’t push her but he was tired of holding back.

“You’re going to see me all week,” she pointed out about their upcoming schedule at Quantico.

“You know what I mean,” he replied and she nodded. “I miss _you_.”  
   
"I could come by next weekend," she offered. “I don’t have anything at the hospital and… I miss you too.”

It wouldn’t be to come home permanently but for a visit. Mulder would have to take it.

 

  
****** **** ******

 

Situated on over five hundred acres within the Marine Corps Base in Quantico Virginia, the FBI Academy programs include firearms, Hogan’s Alley, tactical and emergency vehicle operations centre, survival skills and law enforcement executive development. While the basic training for an academy cadet is over eight hundred hours, the next three days for Mulder and Scully would consist of refresher topics on academics, case exercises, firearms training and operational skills.

Before going back into the field, Mulder and Scully would be required to pass one situational and one written exam. They had three days of intense classroom training scheduled before they took a written exam on Thursday and worked through a scenario-based test. Part of the test would simulate a case they would be required to solve together.

All of this was explained to Mulder over the phone by Director Wilkes on Sunday afternoon. He contemplated calling Scully to ask if she wanted to carpool to Quantico but he didn’t want to push it. The way they left things at the party filled him with a renewed hope. If he pushed her for more time with him than she was ready for, he worried she might change her mind about their recent plans to spend more time together.

He couldn’t tell where she stood emotionally. One moment she was saying she was done with him and the next she was wrapping her legs around his waist as she urged him to fuck her.

It was slightly out of character for her but not by much if he thought about their recent actions. Scully was loyal, almost to a fault, to him and for her to choose her own well-being over staying with him, things had to be pretty bad for her.

A knock on Mulder’s window brought him out of his reverie and he saw her standing outside with a curious grin on her face.

“Hi,” she greeted.

Mulder lowered his window and looked at the cardboard tray she was carrying that held two coffees and a delicious smelling paper bag.

“Is this window service?” he asked with a grin.

Scully glanced at the bag on the coffee tray. “Maybe.”

Mulder pulled on the button to raise the window back up and turned off his SUV. He climbed out and grabbed his duffle bag with a change of clothes like the ones he had on, workout kit and running shoes.

“Nice ride,” she noted at the new vehicle.

She hadn’t seen it on Saturday night at the party because he walked her back to her car, kissed her deeply that lead to small dry humping and left before he could take her again in the parking lot.

“Is one of those for me?” he questioned as he nodded to the cups that had a handwritten M and S by the familiar green logo.

“I’d say there’s a kiss fee incorporated for coffee,” she began lightly. She licked her lower lip and pulled it through her teeth in that way that made him think she was thinking about kissing him. “But we’re at work.”

“Well, we haven’t clocked in yet,” Mulder said as he glanced around the parking lot. He leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. “I’m better at paying my dues these days.”

Scully’s cheeks pinked slightly and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t quite feel like the first day of the academy again but there are some first day jitters going on, I have to admit.”

Mulder nodded in agreement. “I’m not quite excited about wearing khaki pants and a golf shirt again but at the end of this week, we get back to where we both want to be, right?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she commented. “And I think you look great in the trainee attire…”

She was flirtatious today which was a good sign but that wasn’t a solid yes on what he asked her.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured by anything that’s happened over the last weekend,” Mulder clarified.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want the X-Files back,” she began as they walked towards the main building. “But with the recent developments with Sveta and O’Malley… I can’t see it being possible to stay away.”

“No regrets about leaving behind Our Lady of Sorrows?” he asked and took a sip of his coffee.

“I can’t make a difference in medicine if there aren’t people to help,” she replied simply. “I can’t stand by and watch another injustice go unaccounted for. This has to end.”

God, he loved her.

“Let’s go get our badges,” Mulder said and opened the front door to the main building.


	9. Happy Birthday Mulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of paperwork and my assumption of what the rowboat meant at the end of IWTB. Shout out to M/notapenlight for beta reading and being my sounding board.

The air was cool in Virginia on that mid-October morning. He woke up early at the house feeling, feeling chilled and he told himself he needed to stop leaving windows open. He spent the night at the property far enough off the beaten path no one came looking for him and when they did he had a few miles of a warning. The sun was slowly peaking through the clouds and shining on the trees at the edge of the property, melting the frost that laid on the tall grass around their house that would turn from something cold and harsh to a early fall dew.

 

He heard the coffee maker bubble and percolate and he donned his boxer briefs and a t-shirt after using the toilet, brushed his teeth and gave his body a few morning stretches. Fifty four felt the same as fifty three, so far.

 

The house was quiet and Mulder looked around to the kitchen table, then into the living room where an empty wine glass sat on the coffee table. The shallow pool of dried merlot was now staining the bottom and if he wanted to keep the glass, he would need to soak it. A life time ago he wouldn’t even drink wine out of a stemless glass like that but since 2008 there had been a lot of changes to his life.

 

He prepared a mug and stood at the counter, staring out the window off the kitchen, and looked around at where he was. Thinking metaphorically, of course, because your birthday is a good time for self reflection.

 

Maybe as a fifty-four-year-old he would stop leaving dishes everywhere. He used to make a resolution every birthday year, something he started doing when he was twelve and he wanted to change more about his life than he could. When he would resolve himself to appreciate things because he lost the one person who knew what it was like living in that house, growing up with those parents and the expectations that were put upon him.

 

When he met the enigmatic Doctor Scully, he resolved himself to trust her more. After all they had been through that first year together she had earned it. No matter what, he was going to come to her without taking off first. In his own way, he attempted to do that. After their second year together at the FBI, he resolved himself to protect her at all costs. And if he couldn’t he would sacrifice what he could to get her back. He lost what could have been the answer to his sister for that promise and in the end, it was a lie anyway. He knew that instinct would always be right.

 

By 1996 he told himself to at least remember her birthday because she had given him a card and a copy of the 1961 Yankees Roster with Ralph Houk’s card inside. Mulder was so touched by the thought she had put into it he didn’t think twice about hugging her tightly in their basement office. Scully had blushed, tucked her hair behind her ear and not to subtly disappeared to Quanitco for the rest of the week.

 

In exchange he bought her football tickets but they never got to go. They spent the next four days on the worst luxury cruise liner they ever set foot on and he made a crack about her sea legs. It wasn’t a good birthday for either of them.

 

The following year she had been diagnosed with cancer so he took her to a pub, where he could embarrass her in front of strangers with a sparkler in a crappy eighty cent dessert he bought on his way over to pick her up. As she tried to blow out the offending torch, she reminded him he had never remembered her birthday before. He gave her that stupid fucking key chain because he wasn’t able to give her jewelery that meant anything significant because at that point, it was all meaningless. In a heartbeat, he would spend every ounce of his trust fund money on a cure for her, risk his life and limb if it meant he had more birthdays to celebrate Dana Scully. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to throw money at a proper gift beyond gift shop items. What else could you give the woman who wanted nothing except what he failed to find?

 

There had been some other birthday resolutions that he didn’t follow through on. Once in 2004, he thought about leaving her where they were; not out of lack of love or the need to be with her. They were in a back-end motel in the south east United States. He knew her life would have been better without him in it and at that point he just wanted to save her from himself. He was poison, like his father CGB Spender. It must have been a family trait. As he sat at the window she came to him, climbed on his lap, and told him she would take fifty more birthdays together than ever apart.

 

It was 2015 and what did he have, after all he’d done? He was supposed to be looking for answers, that was his purpose but all it left him was losing his sister, his father, his career and his name. What had he gained after all of this? Did he know anything in 2015 for certain that he didn’t know in 1995?

 

Against his better judgement, he still believed in aliens and he believed in the government conspiracy and he believed there were answers still hidden from them that weren’t for the greater good. After all they had seen together, and apart, what he knew for certain is that the paranormal activity wasn’t just a series of hoaxes and lies or folklore and exaggeration, it was real.

 

The stairs creaked and a petite redhead padded into the kitchen with the sleeves his bathrobe rolled up, a smile and what looked like not much else.

 

Mulder handed her the coffee he had prepared for her and smiled at her softly. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse. Her right hand went to her throat and she cleared it. There had been quite a lot of yelling last night. She took her first tentative sip from her mug as she glanced around the kitchen. “I was going to make you breakfast in bed. I still could, if you want.”

 

Mulder took the mug from her and set it down on the counter, before pulling her to him. His long arms wrapped around her and they fit together so comfortably and he knew this changed very little about what they were but he couldn’t help but revel in it while he could.

 

He kissed her lips softly. “Thanks for coming over last night.”

 

“Birthdays, holidays, random weekends I’m not working,” she whispered as he kissed around her mouth, her nose and her forehead.

 

Amazing that two people who used to spend almost every waking hour together couldn’t be the two people who made it work once the words marriage and spouse were added to their titles.

 

She knew if she showed up yesterday, this would happen. They weren’t going to spend time as friends like two emotionally mature adults. They had been so constipated and repressed about what they had wanted from one another for too long. When they saw one another a powder-keg sparked and ignited inside of each of them and against their better judgement, they fell back into old patterns.

 

“For better or worse,” he murmured into her hair.

 

“I think that’s what we said,” she replied, her voice catching in her throat.

 

It was these moments that were tender and loving as they held one another post coitus and still basking in the glow of times that worked with them. They were great as partners, they were fantastic as lovers but when they had to combine his work with their personal relationship it was impossible.

 

That’s what she called it. That’s what she called him as she ran out the door with a bag in hand and headed to her mothers.

 

It quickly crumbled when reality splashed cold water on them and they had to see there weren’t just two people in the relationship. Suddenly they could be at polar opposites from the occasions they had just had with her and things felt strained and forced. When he felt like he didn’t know where she stood, her foot half out the door and her heart visibly broken. Sometimes he felt bitter towards her because of all that he failed to give her and these moments, while a balm to his own pain, seemed to exasperate the times when they were bad.

 

Mulder wondered if he could win, just once. If it could last beyond a tropical vacation, a pretend wedding on a beach and vows they exchanged with a non-priest and a Bahamas wedding license to bind them legally and possibly a happily ever after in their future. He challenged the darkness to let it try, to find them and how little did he know about himself that he couldn’t win against that either.

 

It was after the first successful surgery with Christian and a quiet morning at home when he proposed.

  
Mulder walked in with a stack of mail, some papers and a bouquet of flowers under his arm with the keys to his newly purchased yet used Toyota 4Runner SUV dangling from his finger while he carried a paper cup between his teeth.

  
Scully got up from her place at the table to take the cup from his mouth before a mess occurred, let him kiss her quickly before she set it on the counter. She left him to handle the rest of his things.

  
“You look like you’ve been busy,” she noted as she went back to reading the paper. He was up before she was, gone for a six mile run around the property and down the long stretch of road that lead into town. She was still in bed when he got back and tried to wake her with a joint shower but after a long night at the hospital, Scully had inferred with some colourful language she was not open for that kind of recreational activity before 7 am.  
She had showered since he returned, dressed and the remnants of her breakfast of half a grapefruit and one poached egg were sitting to the left of her giant coffee mug. It would be the first of many for her that day.

  
The sun shone through the windows of their ordinary house and there was a low breeze outside but otherwise was a beautiful spring morning. Mulder, upon being released from the FBI’s most wanted list, had been more productive as a free man in the last week than he had in the last four years before his disappearance. He got a new drivers license, they got him a vehicle, he met with bankers and lawyers, a publisher and a book agent who wanted to know the man behind the infamous X-Files and he got himself a new laptop. It wasn’t anything too fancy, with too many bells and whistles just something that could help him get online and write wherever the mood struck him.

  
“So I just got back from the bank. I need you to sign these papers where the tags are to make all the accounts I have joint,” Mulder started, putting a stack of papers in front of her. The stack was over an inch thick. “I opened a safety deposit box at the bank for us and your key is ready for you to pick up. That one you have to do on your own. I got the papers back from the lawyer and the house of my mothers that I still have is ready for sale but I still added you to the title in case anything happens to me. I got a marriage license from city hall today and if you sign here then that makes a few more things easier for us. And I updated the insurance on the house. Our premium is a little higher but the deductible is better.”

  
Scully’s heart was beating quickly in her chest. “You did what?”

 

Mulder took out a silver ring box from his jacket pocket and set it on the stack of papers in front of her.

 

 “Mulder,” her voice shook as she stared at the box. It wasn’t small, it was four inches by four inches and had a maple leaf on the top. “What did you do?”

 

Mulder knelt down on one knee in front of her and she held up her hand stop him. He took it tenderly between his and he kissed her palm.

  
“We’ve been doing this for a long time, we know we’re not going anywhere… We know we can survive that darkness that finds us and I love you,” he stated.

  
Scully’s cheeks were flushed and she nervously licked her upper lip as she took in what he was saying.

  
“I’m probably the worst person to ask you to commit the rest of your life to me but I think if we can survive what we went through for the last sixteen years of working together then what I’ve put you through and this recent case then the least we can do is try something traditional,” he rambled.

  
His voice was shaking and he realized that this was going worse than he rehearsed but better than he hoped. She hadn’t told him to fuck off yet.

  
“I….” she started.

  
Mulder let go of her hand and picked up the ring box in his hands. They trembled as he slowly opened the box to reveal a princess cut diamond on a white gold band. “I know it doesn’t really go with your necklace…”

  
“Yes,” she interrupted.

  
“What?”

  
“Yes,” she repeated. “I… uh…. I’ll marry you.”

  
“Are you kidding?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

  
“No, were you?” she replied, mimicking his face.

  
“Not on your fucking life would I kid about this,” he said and took the ring out of the box to slide it on her finger.

  
“The ring isn’t really what I need, Mulder,” she said, trying to stop him but he slid it on anyway.

  
Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at the diamond for a moment. It was purely an indulgent moment of fantasy and frivolousness. She felt like she was staring at a brand new pair of shoes or the handbag she had debated buying last time she was in New York. It was just a thing but such a pretty thing.

  
“You don’t have to wear it, Scully,” he stated. “I just wanted to buy it for you. You can keep it in your underwear drawer for all I care.”

  
“Then why buy it?” she asked, looking up from her hand to him. They were almost the same height with her in the chair and him on his knees. “This seems like a waste-”

  
“I’ve never been able to buy you a decent gift,” he said and shook his head self deprecatingly. “Because of what it meant or what it told you I felt. This tells you how I feel.”

  
Scully took a long breath and let it out. That was a big statement for them and her emotions felt more raw than she had invited him into her bed the first time. They were on their way there, both expressing how they had wanted one another but this was different. This was ‘don’t leave me’ this was commitment and she knew, if they did this, it was forever for both of them. Just 9 weeks ago she had said she wouldn’t come home.

  
“I’ll see how it feels at the hospital… It’s not really practical for a doctor…” she was struggling to express how to tell him she wanted it all but possibly not able to wear this symbol of their marital union all the time.

  
“Are you still saying yes?” he asked, saving her from her stumbling.

  
“Yes, Mulder.”

  
“Then I don’t care when you wear it.”

  
Scully pulled Mulder to him and kissed him softly but deeply, fingers threading though his hair. She held his body close to his and he ran his hand up her back.

  
He couldn’t believe she said yes. Mulder touched the base of her neck and felt the absense of a green lump that usually warranted discussions about shape-shifters and searching for a gimlet or alien stiletto.

  
This was not a moment of passion or time for sex on the kitchen floor. They had their dalliances in the past throughout the house, at that very table just but this wasn’t a time for that.

 

Five weeks later they stood on a beach, him in a pair of tan linnen pants and a crisp white shirt, her in a white eyeleted sundress, daisy-trimmed sweetheart neckline, spaghetti straps, and floral embroidery at the bodice and hemline that reached her knees. It was understated and simple. It was Scully.

 

With her titian hair pulled away from her face and tumbling down her bare back in soft curls the humid tropical air brought on, she wore a white dress that contrasted against the glow of a new tan. She was every bit of a bride that he could have imagined. Less virginal offering from one man to another but a woman choosing to choose him. It made his heart ache with a hope he could continue to make her somewhere in the realm of happy.

 

The priest, the witnesses and the ceremony was all for show. She had signed a marriage license back in the United States but Mulder wanted something that would be ceremonial. Something they could keep with them that the darkness they just faced could touch.

 

He didn’t know that in two short years that piece of paper that shouldn’t have changed anything changed literally everything they did. He wouldn’t resent it the way she did him but he felt the shift slowly. And regardless of being married in a Catholic church and attending the classes they would have been required to take before entering into a marriage, Mulder and Scully both knew a dissolution of marriage couldn’t be provided.

 

When she diagnosed his depression he threw the idea out the window along with any of her medical advice. He didn’t need to hear her reasons for leaving.

 

If they could have just stopped hurting one another it might have been okay but the dark place they were in didn’t get any brighter so there they were. Reminiscing of a rowboat, a black bikini and a trip across the bay to make love on a beach and vow again to love one another forever.

 

Back in the kitchen of the ordinary house, on the morning after a marathon of love-making between the idle separation they were working through, he released her from his arms and he looked down into her eyes.

 

“What are we doing here, Scully?” Mulder asked with a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head.

 

She knew he would ask her eventually. They were getting to that point that one of them would need to ask the question of what was going on but she was hoping neither of them would. Hashing out personal turmoils and trying to progress themselves emotionally wasn’t really their style.

 

Correction, it wasn’t Scully’s style. Mulder would lay out his feelings on the table day after day if she could handle that kind of expression but they both knew her limitations. She might be able to physically express herself but verbalizing it to him and what she needed was another issue.

 

‘Mulder I wish you wouldn’t leave your dirty running sneakers on the front hall rug,’ was an entirely different kind of expression of ‘Mulder I need your support because my patient is dying and it’s affecting me deeper than I expected.’ She usually kicked her foot at them and made a disappointed face the first few times before she finally gestured to them as though they had discussed it hundreds of times before. Mulder, trained in behavioral science, knew to read the signals and had a PhD when it came to Dana Scully. He didn't need it always spelled out for him but sometimes, he thought, it would be nice to hear the words. 

 

Scully wasn’t a chatterbox and he knew that. He wasn’t expecting her to unleash every thought and feeling - Scully was too cerebral for that. When she did tell him how she felt he knew it wasn’t a frivolous or fleeting moment and he cherished those times. He did what he could to aid her distraught heart and try to kiss away what ailed her.

 

Now, the things that really hurt her was him. He didn’t know how to fix that.

 

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” Scully replied finally. “I want to say that we’re reconciling but you know that we’re not there yet.”

 

“We’re not or you’re not?” he challenged.

 

This conversation would precede going back to work at the FBI, before Mulder would be swayed by the likes of Tad O’Malley. This was an easier time to hope and pray for their future because he wasn’t passionately putting himself into his work. He was merely surviving without her.

 

“Have you agreed to meet with someone about how you’ve been feeling?” she asked.

 

Scully put more stock into psychiatry than she liked to let on. It wasn’t that she enjoyed talking about her feelings with a passive third-party but that she needed the outside insight family and friends couldn’t provide. Sometimes it was the counsel of a priest and sometimes it was a trained professional but she did a self-check every once in a while.

 

“I will talk to someone,” he said vaguely and she pulled out of his embrace. He pulled her back in as she tried to push him off. “Scully, wait... Dammit. Hear me out. What if we go together?”

 

“Mulder, I’m not going to couples counselling,” she scoffed.

 

“I have an appointment with someone in two weeks,” he promised.

 

Unfortunately this was a pledge he wouldn’t keep. An appointment that would go by the wayside when meeting with someone who promised him answers would overtake and Scully would pull away, as she did. For the first seven years something held them back from being with one another and it seemed as though they were back to this cycle of two steps forward and three steps back. When did the struggle end?


	10. Love Isn't a Maybe Feeling

Shorewood, Wisconsin was a town that broke off from Milwaikee in 1907 that sat just south of Whitefish Bay and offered many historical landmarks from the 1800 and early 1900s. Its police department had a Facebook page where people posted their happy tidings for officers helping them with small problems and it also had a case of poltergeists.

Two instances at the public library, one at the city market and the latest at the Saint Robert’s Roman Catholic Church. They interviewed every witness, watched cell phone videos and literally pounded the pavement for the one mile radius where these “instances” had taken place.

It had been three weeks since his birthday and they hadn’t spoken about their missed joint-appointment with a counsellor. He went to get cleared for duty but she didn’t show up to possibly discuss them or what they were doing. The emotional clarity that might come from a visit to a mental health professional might be too much for Scully at this point.

Each person swore up and down that what they saw was true and had occurred each evening between four and nine p.m. It was a wide window of opportunity and they had yet to draw a connection to each location.

Working along side her proved to be more difficult than he anticipated. Knowing that she wasn’t ready to come back to their home, knowing she needed more time and space, he gave it to her. It was under this guise of being patient, however, he hoped that once their work started again, she would feel the way she did all over again.

It wasn’t the year 2000 that Mulder realized things were changing for him. Before losing the X-Files, after her cancer, he saw that what they had before everything else, was each other. The work brought them together, the work ignited their allied passion for the truth and answers and the work would be the thing that brought them back together again after she told him she couldn’t stay.

The science and strict rationalizations were willing to waiver now when they wouldn’t before. Fifteen years ago, she could be looking at the powdered corpse of an invisible man at eight thirty a.m. and by noon doubting the existence of what she saw. He just wanted her to witness it herself instead of calling them “instances” or “cases.”

She would call a spade a spade for most everything else.

Traveling to Milwaukee from Washington proved to be the first exercise in self control. Within twenty minutes of the two hour flight he already regretted not buying seats separately. They were seated in the middle of a plane in a mostly full flight, with Scully at the window and Mulder in the middle seat. A young man who originally was seated on the aisle moved across to the next row after take off when it was clear the three of them didn’t need to be as cozy.

Scully sat with her hands tightly in her lap and did her normal breathing routine as the plane taxied across the tarmac before take off.

Instinctively, Mulder reached over to her lap and covered her shaking hands with his. “Relax.”

Scully pulled one hand from under his and placed it on top. She closed her eyes and allowed him to comfort her fears for the ascension into the sky. Eventually she pulled her hands from his and she looked out the window, wordlessly communicating his comfort was sufficient.

He spit sunflower seeds into a paper cup and doodled on the case folder until she fell asleep on his shoulder. Out of habit, he let her.

If anything, she was the one not making things fair. He wanted it all and nothing wasn’t really the option he was happy to settle with either.

The second test of their new working relationship, if it was an exercise in remaining abstinent from one another, was the hotel rooms situation. Mulder forgot what it was like to be twenty feet away from Scully after working all day and not being sick of her. If he was being honest, he was never the one who wanted space between them, it was always her asking for it.

He forgot what it was like to be able to see her through the doorway, to hear her getting ready for bed in a routine he could recite from memory and to want to crawl inside her bed to make her quake with pleasure. He knew how to do that.

For all that he was hoping and pushing for in a rekindling, he knew it wouldn’t make things easier if they did so he didn’t fall to those temptations. He kept his distance once she said good night and retired to his own room to unwind.

The following morning, after a long run and a quick shower and shave, Mulder walked a block to the Starbucks to pick up a skim milk, sugar free hazelnut latte for Scully and a regular drip-coffee for himself. He put half and half cream and half a brown sugar packet, stoppers in their lids and strolled back to the motel with a fat free muffin for Scully, overpriced fresh fruit for them to share, and a soggy breakfast sandwich for himself.

He almost missed greasy diner food but Scully reminded him he wasn’t thirty two anymore and his body wasn’t supposed to digest that garbage regularly. Half the food he liked would probably kill him and Scully reminded him of that on a frequent basis. Besides losing his regular dietary enjoyments, 2015 had other ammenities he was learning to appreciate. Cell phone with cameras, laptops with wireless internet and emojis. It was a brand new world.

Scully opened the door to her hotel room with her blouse still untucked and in her stocking feet.

“I brought you a fat free muffin and fruit,” Mulder said holding up the bag and coffee tray.

Scully stepped back from the door and allowed him to enter. “Did I hear you go out at six?”

“I went for a run,” he explained and handed her the extra hot latte. “Part of my mental health regime.”

“Really?” she questioned. She took a sip of her latte and touched her fingers to her lips. “Good.”

“The GP and psychiatrist I saw to get cleared for duty thought the endorphins from cardiovascular exercise would help my moods,” he said as he took out the pastry from the bag. “Fat free multigrain blueberry muffin? It cost me four dollars.”

Scully took the offered food and sat down at the table next to the window of their motel room. “If it cost you any less I might rebuke the offer.”

Mulder sat down across from her and took out his sandwich. He looked at it sadly before taking a large bite.

Scully chewed thoughtfully on her muffin. “I really feel like take out food has taken a downturn since the 90s.”

“Scully, are you flirting with me?” he asked and Scully laughed. “No, seriously.”

“I am serious,” she replied. “I don’t remember it all being that bad for us and carbs weren’t the enemy in the 90s. We were allowed to eat bread in moderation and not feel bad about it.”

“When did you ever not feel bad about it?” he asked with a smile.

Scully took a sip of her latte. “I think 1995.”

Mulder nodded. “Yeah I remember more salads being ordered in 1996 but not as many salads as 2000.”

“I think there was a salad progression over the four years when the frequency and amount of diner food became worse,” Scully mused. “Are we really discussing the amount of salad I used to eat?”

Mulder smiled. “We didn’t even get into the bee pollen debacle of 1999.”

“Mulder...” Scully warned. They both knew what he was referring to. After three weeks of eating yogurt with bee pollen and claiming it was a super food that would help her lose a stubborn 5 lbs that Mulder had no idea where it would come from, Scully snapped on Mulder. She actually yelled at him when he showed up at her apartment with take out food, a shredded file he stole from Spender’s office and a six pack of beer. She cried out that the only reason she couldn’t ever lose weight was because he was constantly feeding her greasy food and she wasn’t a man who could just walk around for five minutes and shed any unwanted weight. Mulder pointed out, rather abruptly, that she hadn’t wouldn’t be acting like this if she ate real food again. She ate two slices of pizza and promised not to eat just yogurt for lunch anymore.

“I thought you might want to talk about the case,” she said before taking another bite.

“Well, the poltergeists seem to be unrelated in location and I’ve got research of the area being compiled by the overeager Officer Cole from the department. The historian Frank Rankin is ready to meet with us in the next hour,” he said. “If you want to discuss the questions we have for him I can go get my notebook.”

Scully raised an eyebrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think they used to call me Spooky,” he jested and they shared a laugh.

“Go get your notebook,” she said, nodding toward the door.

Mulder shook his head and got up from the table. He crossed her room and went through the adjoining doors to his bedside table. When he returned she was tucking in her shirt and looking in the mirror over the desk.

The sun was shining through the window and he had felt the surge of want through him as he had all those times before he ever had her. The icy blue eyes that saw right through him and knew everything were looking at him as though the last five years didn’t happen, as if he wasn’t the man who had broken her heart by disregarding her. When their eyes met, he was the man who saved her from an arctic hell and risked his career trying to find her because, to her, those were different people.

She was supposed to know when she accepted the ring that she had to love both those versions of himself. He loved every horrible thing about her. Like it was so easy to live with a saint. He told her that. More like shouted it once before. He remembered that painfully well. That she was too good and he was just trying to live up to her expectations and failing miserably.

If there was ever a reason for her to look at him with a pain in her eyes, it was because his anger for not knowing their future had been directed at her and somehow her fault. That was possibly the worst fight they had ever had.

They didn’t need to discuss what he was feeling then. They knew each other well enough to know the looks that precipitated the desire of one another’s naked bodies.

On that morning, as he had when he felt the urge many time before, he grabbed her arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. On instinct and habit, she opened hers to him to deepen it. Strong arms wrapped around her and down to her backside. There was nothing slow about these moments. Nothing tender and soft when it first happened. It was always rough, frenzied and raw.

Scully told him the first time they were together after she left, as he was touching her tenderly, that she needed him to be tougher on her. Admittedly, she had been feeling so numb since her departure that when she came home to him she confessed she would rather feel on fire and bruised because at least it was something. It woke her up, it made her feel alive and even though it hurt more when she retired to her new address, at least she felt something again. Going there opened her up, it cut open the wound that she wouldn’t let heal. If she bled it meant her heart was beating.

Maybe Mulder wasn’t the only one who was suffering signs of depression but he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t tell her to stop coming back as much as he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, from wanting her or for continuing this long charade of a break up that wasn’t really a break up. The space between whatever the hell they were and a break up was torture. Neither one of them have been able to sever contact completely. They kept tying themselves to this ambiguity only to be beaten down again by the anger and hurt of coming back together again.

The second time always allowed for tenderness and thoughtful words, wishes of things to be different and the admission of apologies. He wouldn’t apologize for wanting her or for not sticking to the boundaries of their professional partnership. He would just apologize as a blanket statement for all the things that went wrong and the tethers he let fray out of control. She would apologize for leaving or not fighting hard enough. It was strange to call her a quitter when she usually fought for more than she gave up on. Perhaps being worn down by a fruitless fight did that to a woman.

He pulled the shirt from her pants as she tugged on the knot of his tie. She was adept at pulling them free with one hand while the other worked on the buttons of his shirt. Mulder broke the kiss for a moment to undo the buttons of his cuffs and Scully did the same.

She watched him as she undressed herself, removing the periwinkle blue garment and laying it on the desk next to his jacket. They were in their underwear within a minute, their mouths tasting one another as he walked her back towards the bed. If she was going to call things off for another two weeks to a month, he would make this count for all it could.

He pushed her back onto the bed and knelt down on the beige berber carpet that seemed to be in every motel room. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her pink cotton panties and she lifted her hips to allow him to slide them down her legs. It had been two weeks too long between tasting her and he told her so as he pulled her toward the edge of the bed.

Kisses and bites traveled up her thighs as she clutched the bleached sheets underneath her. The sheets smelled of her and if he was lucky, the maid wouldn’t change the sheets on her bed for the duration of their stay. Knowing Scully, she would make the bed so that the maid wouldn’t see any remnants of their activities.

He used his thumbs to part her and his tongue lapped at the juices she was making. She tasted like honey and cinnamon and all the earthy sweetness that made a woman’s essence. She tightened her grip into the bedding as he used his tongue to massage the nerves at her core.

“Oh god,” she moaned as he slid a finger under his chin and inside of her. “Oh fuck, Mulder.”

He slipped a second finger inside and began to pump his fingers as his tongue continued to circulate her clit. The sensations were overwhelming and she tried to move away but he pushed on her hip to still her.

“Too much,” she cried out as she pushed on his hand.

“I thought you liked too much,” he said as he kissed her thigh.

She linked her fingers into his and she nodded. “I do.”

“Okay then shut up and stay still,” he scolded.

Scully laid her head back down on the bed and allowed the sensations to wash over her. The feeling of excitement and the nerves tingling from her center and through her body in waves of undulated frisson.

Mulder began pumping his fingers in and out of her again and paused to swipe his tongue side to side across the swollen nerves under her clitoris. Scully let out an unladylike and very uncharacteristic squeal as the orgasm that was slowly building suddenly fired through her. Every nerve ending fired through and he felt the release on his mouth and fingers of two weeks of pent up sexual tension.

Mulder kissed the skin above her lips near the base of the thatch of trimmed hair. “Scully, I can’t express enough how much I appreciate your grooming.”

“Mulder don’t be crude,” she chuffed as she pushed her body up the matress. “Now get up here and fuck me.”

Mulder laughed and stood up to shed his boxer briefs. “Working blue at seven a.m. Scully?”

“I don’t believe I was trying to be suble or coy,” she whispered with a raised eyebrow as he climbed up on the bed.

“Then get on your knees,” he ordered.

Scully rolled over on the bed and pulled her knees up under her to extend her backside into the air. She looked over her shoulder as she straightened her arms. “Like this?”

Mulder inserted one finger into her tight walls before he rubbed the head of his swollen cock against her. “Yeah Scully, just like that.”

He pushed into her slightly as her body slowly stretched to accomodate him. The sharp tinge of pain that accomodated the of the invasion of his thickness inside her was welcomed. She ushered the discomfort and sting of his trespassing. It was a feeling she wished she she didn’t crave.

His hips pulled back and he pushed himself all the way back in and rocked against her. The head of his cock pushed against her cervix and she cried out at the sensation.

“Like that?” he asked as he pulled out and thrust into her again. He repeated the motion. “Scully?”

“Yes!” she cried and her arms collapsed underneath her and she clutched at the sheets.

There wouldn’t be tenderness between them that morning. There would be carnal fucking and he realized he was okay with that. Only fifteen years ago he did this to her in a non-descript town before many work days but there weren’t any hurt feelings between them nor was the fact that they had different addresses a cause of pain to either of them.

Mulder gripped her hips harder and his fingers pinched at the creamy flesh. If she stayed at that angle it just might be enough and he kept his rhythm steady. Except the tingling in his balls meant his orgasm was approaching and he wouldn’t stop fucking her until he made her come again.

“Scully you have to help me out here,” he grunted.

“I’m close,” she said.

“So am I.”

She reached her right hand to the bundle of nerves at her centre and began to work them in a quick motion as Mulder moaned and grunted behind her. It made her more excited to hear him as it did for him to hear her.

He looked down to the creamy skin of her ass and watched as he pumped in and out of her, and he massaged the cheeks of her ass with his thumbs. His own release was approaching. He wanted them to finish together and for her milk everything out of him.

He pulled out of her abruptly and grabbed her ass to flip her over onto her back. He pushed into her and pulled her right leg up with his left arm, hooking her knee over his forearm.

“Come on,” he grunted.

Scully dug her nails into the muscles of his upper arms and cried out as he pumped fiercly in and out of her. “Oh! God!”

“Is this what you expected when we came here?” he asked.

Scully panted and turned her head away from Mulder before looking back up at him. “No.”

“Liar,” he grunted as he continued to thrust in and out of her. “Tell me to stop then.”

“Don’t,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he said and pushed into her one final time as her walls clenched down around him. “Oh god, I can feel you.”

“Yes,” she gasped as her body went taught under his and she felt the internal detonation of neurons firing, the muscles contracting and endorphins releasing within her.

If Mulder had the whole day to devote to making her feel that way again and again. If he could make her feel that way enough times, maybe she might forgive all the other ways in which he made her feel like he didn’t try hard enough, put enough passion into them and fight for their cause.

Scully held onto him as he panted above her and he released the leg he had hooked over his arm. He kissed along her collar bone and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

“Then stop leaving me,” he said as he pulled out of her.

His cell phone trilled and he grabbed it off the night stand.

“Mulder,” he answered. The detective at the precinct was calling for their ETA to the latest crime scene. He looked over at Scully as she walked into the bathroom. “We’re on our way.”

He grabbed his clothing and walked back to his room to get redressed. It would be a long day.

***

Mulder loosened the tie he had donned nineteen hours ago and tossed the ash grey suit jacket onto the second bed of his motel room. To say it had been a long day was an understatement. He undid the cuffs of his starch white shirt and pulled the material from his trousers. If he burned the suit in the parking lot of the Super 8 he might be able to claim it on a T7401. Then again, he only had one other suit and he had to take that to the local dry cleaner after a coffee mishap the day before.

Poltergeists reported by the town folk of Shorewood were giving them nothing more than sore feet and headaches. More than once, Mulder asked for a Motrin. No matter how exciting it was to be back in the field with one another, dealing with the public during these cases exhausted them both. 

He looked over to the adjoining door he had left ajar that morning to Scully’s room, noting hers was open slightly also. He still had a mickey of vodka in his mini-fridge and two juices leftover from the vending machine.

He heard the shower turn on in her bathroom and he decided that a shower would be a good idea also. Maybe don’t confront Scully when you’re smelling like the worst version of yourself and the sex you had with a woman who seems to want nothing to do with you romantically.

As he rubbed the soap across his torso and let the sharp beads of water spray his face he ran through the events of that morning. He had brought her coffee to her room, they discussed their upcoming questions for their meeting with Frank Rankin, the detective in Sherwood who called them out there, and she laughed at his joke.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in a closed room with her since she left and they had chosen on a few occasions not to use one another that way. More so than not, they did and it never made anything better. Just in the moment of using one another to balm a wound that wouldn’t heal.

He didn’t have much of an excuse for his actions. It was first thing in the morning, he had a good nights rest the day before but his hormones took over. This felt more like it did before. All he could think of was how beautiful she looked with the sun shining through the window. She had been allowing him into her personal space and she smelled so damn good. He didn’t go in there intending to do what he did but there it was.

Their penance for their misdeeds and sins was to be forced to work alongside one another for the next nineteen hours with the scent of their sex and the feeling of what they had done lingering between them.

If he had a list of most uncomfortable moments with Scully, that would sit in the top ten. Not top five but definitely top ten mostly because he didn’t know what the hell was going on with them.

His body wanted hers just as much as he did when they first found themselves finally in bed. His heart and mind never would or could need anyone else. What else were they waiting on?

Oh right. She wanted his obsession to subside again. For him to be someone else or for him to be less of the version of himself that somehow convinced Dana Scully to fall in love with him.

But she knew what he was like. She knew it and yet she still didn’t want that version of him to be the one she lived with. Or maybe it was the version of himself that lost sight of everything and everyone around him.

When he decided he should go see a doctor, after she told him he was on dangerous ground and he wouldn’t listen to reason, he went. He talked to a GP about himself, had a physical and went to a psychiatrist for a mental health check to get cleared for duty.

Luckily, he passed and showed Scully his “fit for duty” note when they arrived back in the basement.

He also had her “get your head out of your ass” prescription in his pocket that she wrote to him a few years ago. When she picked up the worn paper she smiled briefly and told him if he needed a refill her office hours were flexible.

Upon deciding he would stick his neck out for them again, he put on sweat pants and retrieved sprite and ice from down the hall.

Mulder knocked on Scully’s door and found her sitting on her bed with her glasses on and going over autopsy notes. He appreciated seeing her like this, mid-case with her legs crossed, a laptop in front of her and her hair in a messy bun. It reminded him of the top of the world and examining one another for ice worms.

“Hey,” he said and held up two tumblers with his mixed concoction of ice, a little sprite, some juice and more than a splash of vodka. Hers was cranberry while his was orange.

“Yes please,” she said and held out her hand for her drink. She took a long sip and widened her eyes at him. “Oh that’s good.”

“I ordered a pizza,” he said, sitting down near her photos and two inches to the left of where she shouted his name twenty hours previous. Twice.

“Extra mushrooms?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You would think that almost being consumed by a giant mushroom fungus that I would find eating them abhorred but I can’t get enough,” he said and she chuffed out a laugh. Mulder nodded toward her almost empty glass. “How’s your drink, Scully?”

“Surprisingly empty,” she replied innocently.

One drink Scully made innocent yet fun jokes. Three-drink Scully was more interested in discussing her feelings. He just didn’t want her to get to four-drink Scully. Not yet. That Scully liked to cuss a bit more, lowered her inhibitions and usually woke up a little annoyed he let her drink that much but never complained regarding the extra curricular activities they partook in the night before.

Mulder got off the bed and took their glasses to get refilled. When he returned she had packed up most of her notes and was putting on an over-sized cardigan that looked familiar.

“Isn’t that mine?” he pointed.

Scully buttoned up the grey cable knit sweater that she often ‘stole’ from his side of the closet on cool nights at their old home. He liked it on her better but he didn’t realize it had made its way over from the house he still inhabited to her fancy DC apartment.

Scully straightened her back and tugged on the hem of the knitted material. “Can’t we share custody?”

He handed over her drink and shook his head. “You want that but you won’t come see the fish?”

“They’re still a little mad at me for losing a molly,” she replied and took a sip of her drink. “FBI rules on fraternization between agents of different genders still frowns upon this scenario.”

“We should probably file an incident form for this morning,” he pointed out and her cheeks flushed. He sighed and rubbed his free hand across his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t mind what happened, Mulder,” she pointed out. “I just don’t think it should keep happening.”

She said keep happening because that wasn’t the first time they had been together since she left. The first time it happened, she initiated it and Mulder felt as unfair and cruel as it was to lay with her, he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t tell himself or her that it should be all or nothing. He wanted her but he also wanted her to come home.

“Well I’ll remember that next time you show up feeling nostalgic,” he said in a snarky tone he usually reserved for discussing their vows.

She put a hand on his forearm and he tried to pull away but her grip moved to his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? For letting me fuck you this morning or for still wanting me?” he spat back. "Wait, you want me you just don't want all the baggage that comes with it."

“I can’t do all of this again,” she said and set her glass down on the bedside table. “I told you I need more time.”

“We don’t have more time,” he reminded her. “We don’t have seven years to wait and let it all fester, Scully. We just don’t have that anymore.”

“Maybe...” she started.

“Love isn’t a maybe feeling,” he interrupted. “You’re in it or you’re not. You love me or you don’t.”

“Of course I love you, Mulder!” she cried and covered her face with her hands as she fought tears from falling. She wiped the back of her thumb across her nose and shook her head again. “Of course I do.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, walking towards her and taking her hands in his.

“I can’t be second to this fight anymore,” she said. “You put your passions into everything you see around you and once, for a while, I was that focus.”

“What changed with my freedom from the FBI’s most wanted list was I had the flexibility to keep looking for answers,” he reminded her. “Scully, I am still me.”

“You’re not,” she disagreed. “You were in a dark place and it had started long before I left.”

“You used to be the light in that darkness,” he said and sat down heavily on the bed.

That was true. She always made everything better. She brought the light that fought the darkness that followed them for the last twenty years. For Mulder, it started long before that, but he found a break in the dark skies with her. It killed him to know he pushed her away. It killed him to know that she wasn’t there when he needed her.

She sat down on the bed next to him. “I said I would come back for these cases and then go back to the hospital. I can come back permanently to the FBI if that’s where you want me.”

“What about us?” he asked tentatively.

Scully took her hand in his. “Maybe there’s hope.”

"I need more than just hope, Scully," he said. "I need you to let me in and stop pushing me out."

"I'm trying," she started and he held up his free hand. "I am."

"I need you to actually do it. Commit to me again," he pushed. He was putting himself on the line here, his heart and possibly making their working relationship very uncomfortable but at this point he didn't care. He just wanted her to stop leaving and he told her that.

"I could try," she whispered. "If you can."

"I can, Scully. I will. I'll be better."


	11. At Home with Daggoo

Getting back to Washington with a dog one had rescued but had no papers for was not as difficult as Mulder had declared it to be when he spotted the golden eared pup sitting on the floor of Scully's motel room. As it turns out, with slow moving paperwork and bureaucracy at an all time high, when you flash your badge and say you have a protected witness inside a dog-carrier TSA waves you through.  
  
Scully glanced over her shoulder to the back seat of the SUV where Daggoo was sitting happily, pacing back and forth across the blanket she had for emergencies. It was probably covered in white hairs. She would become one of those people who carries a lint roller in her purse and leave one by the front door to prevent appearing less than professional.  
  
Mulder was driving her car wearing Ray Bans, a suit and a sort of satisfied smile. A bag of dog food sat on the floor behind her and Daggoo was pacing back and forth, sniffing their purchase before realizing his dinner would have to wait.  
  
As they pulled onto the road that led to the ordinary house, Scully feigned a yawn.  
  
"Tired?" he asked as he looked over at her.  
  
"It's been a long few days," she said. "Fun but long."  
  
Their habitation situation had yet to be rectified. She had her apartment in Georgetown and he was still sleeping most nights alone at the house. Things had taken a turn back to them being more a couple than not but if someone asked him what his relationship status was, he would answer with a shrug.  
  
He was always Scully's as much as she was his. Even more so when she made declarations in hotel rooms while on a case.  
  
"My Mulder," the words echoed in his mind. He had to jump past them when she said it while wearing one of his T-shirts and pale yellow panties he could see even though she was trying to sit ladylike. He had woken her up to be alerted that they were looking for a monster and they needed to check out of their hotel.  
  
He wanted to climb on the bed, yank on her ankles to pull her underneath him and bury himself inside of her but that had to wait until they found another place to sleep for the duration of the case. He wanted to make her quiver and quake with the talents of his mouth. He wanted to hear her call him Fox because she did that when she was really pleased with him under those circumstances and he really didn't mind it.  
  
By the time they were settled in their new digs, Scully fell asleep on the covers of his room and he took that as a step in the right direction. It wasn't physical but it was proximal.  
  
Feelings of doubt and lowered self worth crept into his psyche toward his quest. They had been lied to, a lot of the things they used to prove to be paranormal had been disproved, and he had more access to facts and science at the touch of a few buttons that discounted every theory he ever had. He couldn't argue with Wikipedia the way he used to argue with Scully and it definitely wasn't as enjoyable.  
  
Mulder pulled up in front of the house and Scully reached over to turn off the car.  
  
"You okay?" he asked.  
  
"I don't want to drive back tonight," she told him and glanced over at Daggoo.  
  
The drive wasn't that long but asking to stay over wasn't her style either. Usually she just showed up when she missed him and recognized it made the space between their time together harder. He told her as much but he would rather have the time together than not.  
  
Mulder grinned. "I think I can make space for you."  
  
Inside the house, Mulder anticipated that she would be grateful to see a tidy house. Getting back to work, being in a routine of some sorts had created a healthier state of mind for him. He was productive, he was more organized than he had been and he was taking care of his surroundings.  
  
Daggoo ran toward the couch immediately and hopped onto the spot Mulder usually inhabited. He barked twice at them and walked around in a circle before sitting.  
  
"What?" Mulder asked the dog.  
  
Daggoo barked back and Mulder put his hands on his hips as they stared each other down.  
  
The interaction was adorable.  
  
Scully found an old bowl from the kitchen and poured a small portion for Daggoo. She made a kissing noise with her lips and the mutt ran toward his feast.  
  
"This is weird," he noted.  
  
Scully patted Daggoo on the back and found another bowl and filled it with water. " _This_ is weird?"  
  
Mulder looked around the house, the comfortable way in which they were interacting and the dog eating at Scully's feet. "Yeah, it's weird."  
  
"I like weird," Scully said.  
  
Mulder had a flashback to Angela White hopping on top of him and forcing her tongue down his throat.  
  
"Do you?" he asked as he approached her.  
  
"I mean, I like _you_ ," she admitted as she folded and unfolded her arms. She did that when she was cold or discussing theories with him and tried not to do that when they discussed personal matters. "You're a little weird."  
  
"So are you," he pointed out. Mulder reached his hand out to her and interlaced their fingers. "Do you want to order in?"  
  
Scully nodded. "I'll put Daggoo out."  
  
When Mulder said ordering in, he usually meant Chinese because he liked the leftovers and there were slim pickings of places that delivered near the house. When they stayed at Scully's they had the entire world of culinary experiences a phone call away and they could venture beyond one restaurant.  
  
Daggoo picked a bush on the side of the house to mark as his own and kicked grass backwards on where he had marked. When Scully came back inside Mulder was standing near the wall phone and twirling the long cord as he ordered their food.  
  
"Mr. Phong wants to know if you want the spicy beef," Mulder said as he covered the phone and Scully waved her hand as she shook her head. "No Mr. Phong, no spicy beef. Just the dinner for four."  
  
Mulder hung up the phone and shook his head. "Pushiest Vietnamese man who ever ran a Chinese food restaurant."  
  
"I like the Wok Inn," Scully shrugged as she watched Daggoo sniff his surroundings. "They never take longer than 25 minutes to deliver the food and it's always hot."  
  
"Your standards have certainly changed over the years, Scully," Mulder noted as he watched Daggoo inspect the rug in the living room.  
  
The dog flopped on his back and began to wiggle around in an uncoordinated manner. Scully laughed and Mulder watched her face light up. Maybe a dog wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
  
****  
  
They stretched out on the couch where they had sat during their feast and watched three episodes of a cop comedy on Netflix. Mulder wasn't the type to subscribe to such things, he preferred old VHS movies and the occasional DVD, but he got it after Scully discussed the documentaries she enjoyed.  
  
"I'm impressed you didn't toss any scraps to Daggoo," Mulder noted as Scully rubbed one hand across her full stomach.  
  
"I think there's onion in almost everything we ordered," she pointed out and Mulder nodded. "When did you have a dog before?"  
  
Surprising was that the conversation never came up before. Maybe they had talked about getting a dog in the past but not about lost childhood pets. Scully would have to confess to the poor rabbit. Mulder thought back to their case with Detweiler who transformed into a dog that killed people. It was such an offhand remark about picking up after a dog but perhaps men who transform into monsters or monsters who transform into men got her thinking about old cases. Mulder just remembered her being miffed with him and his relationship to Karin Berquist.  
  
"When I was nine," Mulder said as he reached a hand out to Scully and interlaced their fingers. "I think my dad felt guilty."  
  
Scully nodded. "Naval base housing regulations stipulate allowances for two pets however my father usually said it would be unkind to the dog or cat due to the amount of traveling we did. It wasn't necessarily true. He just didn't appreciate the noise and mess."  
  
"The Captain didn't like pets?" Mulder asked and she nodded. "My dad made me get rid of Cepeda after they divorced."  
  
" _Cepeda_?" Scully repeated. "Mulder?"  
  
"Orlando Cepeda was a very overlooked player in the 1960s," he explained. "His 254 home runs were the tenth best."  
  
"You always rooted for the underdog," she noted.  
  
"I like the guy who doesn't get the most noteriety," he said with a shrug.  
  
They sat for a moment and let the disappointments of childhood and unfulfilled promises wash over them.  
  
"I think if you make a dog run on the side of the house it should keep the pick up to a minimal," she told him.  
  
"Is Daggoo spending that much time here?" Mulder asked.  
  
Scully glanced down to the dog bed where Daggoo was laying in deep sleep. "I think Daggoo likes it here, Mulder."  
  
Daggoo in this situation was a metaphor for her and they both knew that.  
  
"You shouldn't call him that," he said with a shake of his head.  
  
"It pays homage to your Lizard-Man and he was in Moby Dick," Scully defended as she studied their sleeping pet. "Daggoo is a great dog name."  
  
"Queequeg and Daggoo," Mulder muttered.  
  
"I think he likes you," Scully noted as the dog had spent a great deal of the last few hours reminding Mulder of his presence and nudging him for affection.  
  
"I guess he's not picking up on different ways I've hurt you," Mulder said as he started to pull his hand away from Scully.  
  
She pulled her feet down from the coffee table and turned to him. "I think we both did some damage, Mulder."  
  
"No grudges between us?" he asked.  
  
"I wouldn't say that but I think the only way to move forward is to put certain things in the past," she mused. "Especially if we're going to give it a fresh start."  
  
"Are we?" he asked.  
  
"I thought we were on that path," she confessed. "Especially in the recent months."  
  
"You say things like ‘my Mulder' while wearing my Knicks t-shirt and I have to ask if you're serious, Scully," he said as he took her hand in his again.  
  
He always felt warm to her and she realized recently and expressed to him it was because she was usually chilled. She told him the last time she was there that her body longed for the heat of his but moreover, she missed just being with him. Working along side him, being challenged on her science and finding their common ground. She missed the weight of him on top of her and the way he took up two thirds of every bed they slept on. She missed his noisy presence and the way he rubbed her back absentmindedly while they sat reading the paper.  
  
Most importantly she missed the passionate fire of a man who sounded bat-crap crazy while arguing that a giant lizard was also a man. That part, not so secretly, was the part that reignited every flame inside of her that was a dying ember of passion for him and what their work was.  
  
"Don't worry, Mulder," Scully said as she pulled his face toward hers. "I still don't like dogs in the bed."  
  
Their kiss was slow and deep with the familiarity of two people who knew how to excite one another and the yearning of two people who needed more than small gestures and maybes. They had so many nights together these days and he almost felt a semblance of normality except for when he went to bed and she wasn't there.

  
It wasn't until recently that he realized she felt the same longing for him too. She had to work so hard to wrap her mind around expressing the emotions of her heart and sharing with him with the trust nothing would get thrown back in her face. Sometimes it did but that was part of the deal they made when they ventured into the unknown of this romantic entanglement.  
  
Mulder pulled Scully onto his lap in the skilled way he knew how, with both hands on her ass and allowing her to straddle him.  
  
She kissed him again and pulled on the button of her suit jacket. Mulder pushed it off her shoulders and began to work on his tie. A large hand closed over her breast and she moaned at the contact. It had definitely been too long since their last encounter.  
  
This was familiar if anything. They were on the threshold of making love while wearing their professional garments of their FBI personas. How many times did they come home from a case before he disappeared and their worlds were changed? Or finish a week of monster hunting to tear off their work personage and take relief in what was of this world and within the realms of what science could understand? Science understood the lust and passion between two people. It could break down the physical acts, the decisions and the movements to be joined as one. Science could even understand the chemistry and biology of two people who had such differing opinions but the same quest.  
  
It made for excellent bedfellows.  
  
She ground her hips into his lap and Mulder grunted into her mouth at the contact to his swollen cock. There was definitely a benefit to being with someone who knew your body and their own. Who knew how to excite you as they touched you in wonder and looked at you as though you were the best thing since salted sunflower seeds.

  
Mulder realized he was waxing poetic in his mind, as he often did, when he was appreciating the petite woman in his lap. It was all just too much for him sometimes. The way she kissed him and how she felt in his hands. She was so much of what he needed and yet it was never enough. He wanted all of her.  
Scully stood up from the couch and reached her hand out. Her face was flushed and he could see perked nipples through her bra and blouse. "The bed."  
  
A quick inventory of the state of the bedroom lead Mulder to believe this would be advantageous for them. Although he was enjoying making out on the couch with Scully like a young man in his teens, he appreciated the benefits of being a grown ass adult who could bed a woman and know what to do with her when he got there.  
  
Mulder had changed the sheets before they left for their case and the upstairs was tidy except for a basket of laundry he had yet to fold.  
  
He followed her up the stairs, his fingers laced with hers and watching her with the same wonder and fascination he usually held for UFO's or were-monsters that transformed in front of him. He wondered if she knew that the look of joy and wonder he gave her was on the level of disbelief. Sometimes it still felt too fantastic that they found one another and yet, in the end, who else could there be?  
  
"Scully," Mulder started as they stood outside his bedroom as he did when he was going to make a declaration.  
  
"Mulder," she responded in a mocking tone.  
  
"I wanted to say something serious," he said as he put a hand on his hip in indignance.  
  
"Can you be serious while we're having pillow talk?" she bartered and opened the door. She pulled her blouse from her pants and began to unzip the side. She turned around to him. "Come on and make me say cheese."  
  
"Hey!" he walked in after her. "I didn't put that in my report."  
  
Scully unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it on the bed. "No skin rashes from were-monster mustaches."  
  
Mulder inspected the skin around her neck that usually would inflame from contact with his five o'clock shadow.  
  
"I looked in your notebook on the flight back to DC," Scully said. Her hands reached out to Mulder's belt buckle and deftly undid the clasp and unzipped his fly. "I think the synopsis he was describing about a woman and the manager of a cell phone shop is the same scene from one of your tapes downstairs."  
  
Mulder watched as she undid the button on his pants and reached inside his trousers. He was still hard for her as they discussed the case, the faux sex scenario between her and another man and as she teased him. Of course this would keep him hard, this was what used to arouse him before.  
  
During their original tenure down in the office, they bantered back and forth, argued over cases. Mulder felt a warmth toward her that used to fuel every masturbatory event. Although usually she was doing some version of a lap dance as she peeled off her suit in the office, he tried not to feel too badly about that now. Especially when he discovered she had similar fantasies about him.  
  
While he was contemplating what used to excite him, Scully was taking off her shoes and shedding her blouse. In her bra and trousers, she sat on the bed in front of him and she pushed his slacks over his hips. It was hard to concentrate on getting his dress shirt off while she was looking at his erection tenting inside his fitted boxer-briefs.  
  
"No tighty whities," she noted with a smile.  
  
This was the side of Scully he knew only he was privy to. The side of Scully who was playful, girlish and enjoyed her sexuality. She kept that part of herself hidden from the doctors, law enforcement officers and men who tried to woo her.  
  
He managed to undo the buttons on his cuffs and she worked on the buttons on the lower half of his shirt while he did the top ones. "I like to mix it up from the red briefs to these."  
  
"We've come a long way from boxer shorts," she sighed as she looked at the outline of his member.  
  
Mulder tossed his shirt to the floor and nodded toward her half dressed form. "Get naked, you."  
  
Scully reached for the zipper on the side of her slacks and laid down for Mulder to pull them off. He really did enjoy undressing her and it was kind enough of her to let him do that. Her nylons were next and she shed her white satin bra.  
  
What Scully knew about him was that one of his favourite things to do during the precursor to foreplay was undressing her. It was a way of touching her, to feel her body in his hands while being entrusted to perform this intimate act. It wasn't as sexual as it was visceral to intimacy. The satin strappy pair of white material being taken down her slender legs satisfied long standing fantasies.  
  
She was stretched out on the bed and he pushed the pale blue underwear over his hips. She maneuvered herself to the middle of the bed and he climbed on top of her with the familiarity of a man who knew where to lay on her.  
  
"I miss this feeling," she said as he settled himself on top of her.  
  
"Don't make it sad," he scolded and kissed her deeply.  
  
A leg hooked around his waist while hands went into his hair and they tasted what they could. It was intense, elemental and arousing. Scully rubbed her sex along his hardened flesh that was pushing along her centre while fingernails dragged up his back.  
  
"If I can't leave any hickeys you need to be careful of my back," Mulder said when the kiss broke. His voice was hoarse with arousal and she gave him a look that said ‘oh really?' "Yes, really."  
  
Mulder kissed down her throat as he took a different route from his usual path. He usually paid attention to the sensitive skin at her collarbones but then again, Mulder always did like to be unpredictable. He wanted to taste the salt on her skin and the nectar of her sex. His hands covered her breasts and he paid close attention to the skin betwen them. The space between where his eyes traveled throughout the day. The skin that hinted at more.  
  
His fingers pinched at her nipples and she arched her back. He had missed the way he could make her react and the sounds that eminated from her. He wanted her quivering underneath him and begging for more. He wanted her to control him with her mouth the way she expertly did. This was the problem with the estrangement. One didn't have access to another person's body to taste, touch and excite when the mood struck.  
  
Mulder found the mood striking him more often than not now that they were back to working together. Even during monotonous paperwork he found himself glancing over to Scully as she typed up reports thinking of things he wanted to do. They weren't exactly at the stage he could lock the door and bend her over his desk as he had once or twice before but he could hope.  
  
That was a problem with reconciliation. Every step forward made him long for more.  
  
"Have you thought of this?" Mulder asked as he kissed each breast.  
  
"Yes," she whispered as she gripped his hair.  
  
Mulder kissed the smooth skin of her abdomen and touched at the scar on her left side. It was a constant reminder of one of many times he almost lost her. To anyone else they might see a small incision and wonder if she had a surgery at a young age, not laproscopic repair to a tear in her her liver from not-so-friendly fire.  
  
When his mouth reached her sex she let out a long sigh. As his tongue traced the edges of her lips, she moaned low and loud. When he circled her clitoris with the tip of his tongue she cried out.  
  
Occasionally at their encounters that he did this for her, he worked a repeated pattern until she was wet and swollen. He built her up in purposeless patterns that excited but didn't over stimulate her until she was near the edge of what would be a promising orgasm but felt frustrating at the same time.  
  
She stopped him once at the beginning of their romantic journey while he was working on a random pattern that probably mimicked what could have been crop circle pattern made by sneaky farmers who aced geometry and asked why he was teasing her. He drew one long digit up her leg from the three inch chunky heel she had put on that morning to the skirt that was bunched up around her waist and asked her if she wore this ensemble for some kind of reaction from him. She looked down at him with a look of mock innocence while the juices of her pussy were still coating his lips and she crooked her mouth into a smile.  
  
"You tease in your way, Scully and I'll tease in mine," he told her before making her come three times with his tongue on her clitoris and a finger up her ass.  
  
With his tongue now working in a circle around her clitoris and a long digit inside her tight cavern he flattened his tongue against her sex. It reached the swollen inner lips of her pussy and she moaned.  
  
"Oh god, Fox," she breathed and gripped the bed sheets as she came.  
  
It was a long wave of pleasure and release. It shook through her body with the force of the momentum of flirting over case notes and protocol. What seemed like another day at the office could be considered foreplay if it involved arguing over theories and motives. They watched one another's mouths, they bantered and worked the back and forth that was each counter point. It was god damned thrilling.  
  
Mulder watched her with the wonder he reserved for flying space crafts that disappeared from the naked eye and ran on free energy. It was wonder and love and appreciation. He kissed her inner thigh. "I know it's good when you call me that."  
  
Scully reached a hand out to run her fingers through his hair. "You're still my Mulder."  
  
Mulder moved himself so he was laying next to her on the bed and she reached out to stroke him once. Their eyes met, she gave him the offertory glance but he waved a hand as if to say next time. The feeling of her lips around him at this moment might end things too soon. If she was so inclined in the morning he might not turn her down but what he desired most of all was to be inside of her.  
  
Scully stuck her lip out in a mock pout and he shook his finger at her.  
  
"No no, none of that," he scolded playfully.  
  
They laughed and she pushed his shoulder down and she swung a leg over his hip to straddle him.  
  
"It's not a bad piece of ash," she commented before sinking down on him.  
  
He filled her completely and he could see her wince a little as the bulbous end of his cock poked at her cervix. What could always be said for Dana Scully was that she was tight and he felt like she was made just for him. It was the one thing that always worked of them, even when they were out of sync. They could come together and communicate with their bodies what they failed to say to one another verbally.  
  
"You okay?" he asked as he watched her face express her contort the way it did when she was trying to solve a problem. She nodded and he ran a soothing hand over her hip. "We can try a different way."  
  
Scully shook her head as she raised herself up and down on his member. It allowed her body to stretch and accommodate his girth. She put her hand on his knee behind her and used his body to create some leverage. She was supple and agile while she rode him.  
  
It was everything to him that they still could do this. He had missed her so much and his own touch could only do so much. He missed her mouth, the way she tasted and the sounds she made. What he imagined in his mind would never compare to the feeling of her on top of him.  
  
Mulder pushed his arm behind him to sit up and she wrapped an arm around the back of his neck. They developed a rhythm as she moved up and down on him and he used the bed for leverage to thrust up into her when she came down on him. It was familiar and exciting, to be with each other this way with a case completed and the world outside with one less monster lurking in the shadows. Except they weren't in her Georgetown apartment on her bed with a budding romance and the rest of their lives ahead of them.  
  
They had the history and the pain of too many disappointments and frustrations to work out. They had the history of two people who could only ever be with one another. Not because they were so damaged and unlovable to anyone else but who else could understand and appreciate all they had been through? Their friendship was the foundation for what started the slow embers burning for one another. It turned into something so much better and complete once they shared a bed.  
  
What Mulder realized as she was riding him was the thing he appreciated the most out of everything was Scully really was his best friend. She knew him, she loved him and took him for who he was. Where he had failed her as a husband he could make up for as a lover, a partner and a comrade. It was the "for better or worse" part that they failed at.  
  
He knew it was a failure on both their parts. She promised to always push him to keep fighting and when she got tired of reminding him of that, he practically packed her bags for her.  
  
If he wasn't so wrapped up in meeting their mutual release, he would have stopped their actions and told her they needed to finally have a serious conversation about where they were. Scully could do it, she could sit through hearing him push for her to come home and the vise around her feelings would eventually pry apart and she could confess it was what she did or didn't. Mulder didn't know if he could take the latter.  
  
A sound of a small dog grumbling at the door tore Mulder's eyes away from the sight of Scully bouncing on top of him. They looked to see Daggoo rolling around on his back on the carpet in the hallway.  
  
"Get!" Mulder ordered.  
  
Daggoo jumped to his feet and barked at the couple.  
  
"Not right now!" Mulder called and Daggoo huffed at them and they could hear him trot himself down the stairs. Mulder would possibly find one of his favourite sneakers chewed up in the morning for this indiscretion but it was worth it.  
  
Mulder met Scully's eyes and they burst into laughter. He winced and flipped them over as her muscles clenched on his member and pulled out of her. "God damn I'll never be used to that."  
  
Scully held a hand to her chest as the laughter vibrated through her body and Mulder shook above her. Her laughter subsided as he kissed along her collarbone and nipped at the tender spots on her neck. He pushed himself back inside of her and began a slow, lazy rhythm that only she could appreciate. It built up her orgasm and staved his off. The friction from his pelvis against hers along with the slow cadence of him moving inside her was exactly what she liked.  
  
The pressure began to build and he could feel her swell around him. The tight fist of her sex gripped him tighter and a rush of fluid pushed out of her between them. Mulder felt the serous on his pelvis and he groaned at the sensation. He pushed harder and faster and she cried out again.  
  
"Yes," he breathed into her neck and she let out a sound that sounded somewhere between a moan and a sigh.  
  
It was another reason he knew Guy Mann was lying. Scully never called a man an animal in bed unless she was joking. Of the 150 different times he had sex with her against a wall, yes he kept track, she wasn't loud in the ways he described.  
  
It wasn't like Mulder to feel surprised that other men noticed Scully. Who couldn't notice her? Over the last 23 years, Mulder had lost track of how many times men and women had made advances towards her. Scully, being daft as she was about those advances, always brushed them off. Or she smiled at Mulder the way she did, ran her tongue along her top lip, and asked him if he liked watching a woman come on to her.

It wasn't out of character for her to entice him or be sexual. She was a very sexual woman but she knew when it was appropriate. The very placement of some missed buttons told Mulder she enjoyed teasing him. She told him as such after their first case together and he spent the next two days pondering that statement.

  
She could be naughty when she wanted to. He lived for every moment he witnessed it. He lived for the moments in between and suddenly he remembered what he was going to push her to discuss. He wanted her to move home. He needed her to stop playing games with him and he needed to push for a fresh start.  
  
"Mulder," Scully sighed as she dragged her nails down his back.  
  
The rhythm of his movements had pushed her toward the edge of the bed and her head was at the precipice of hanging off. Such a metaphor for her own pleasure.  
  
"I'm getting close," he grunted.  
  
She reached her hand between them to play with the bundle of nerves at her center. Her orgasm quickly broached and as she came, her body milked every drop out of him. His eyes closed and he cried out this time, calling her by her first name.  
  
"Oh god, Dana," he sighed.  
  
They lay panting for a moment as they fought the inevitable that they would need to separate eventually. He slipped out of her and she pushed further into the middle of the bed.  
  
"What's a fresh start to you?" he asked as he collapsed on the bed next to her.  
  
Scully looked over at his naked form and then up to the ceiling. She had stared at the lines on the ceiling that Mulder had patched when they first bought the house and she quickly escaped to the bathroom.  
Mulder heard her after-care routine and he moved to join her in the bathroom when he was sure she was done.  
  
"So?" he asked as he wiped the reminants of their love making off himself.  
  
"So?" she asked as she walked into the bedroom. "I'm borrowing a shirt."  
  
Mulder approached her and watched as she pulled on one of his tank tops and her panties. "I want more than just a few brief encounters of sex and comraderie."  
  
"Don't make this sad, Mulder," she told him.  
  
"I'm not. I don't know what the hell we're waiting for. We don't have seven more years to figure our shit out. We've done the apart thing. I need you home with me," he pushed. He pulled at her hands as she started to cross her arms. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out."  
  
Scully sighed. "I think I'm ready."  
  
"You said that before," he reminded her. "I need you to try now."  
  
Scully nodded. "I'm sorry if I've used you."  
  
He pulled her toward the bed and they sat down next to one another. Not unlike the conversation she had when she tried to tell him before that his depression was affecting both of them. "I used you too."  
  
Her eyes searched his and she must have found what she was looking for. An answer to the question she wasn't asking. "As long as you're sure."  
  
"Scully, I know it won't come between us or what we're doing," he promised.  
  
"I believe you."


	12. The Beginnings of Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have a follow up that deals with more of Home Again. I'm a sucker for feedback!

The air was crisp in DC that morning when her alarm went off and Daggoo scratched at the end of her bed as she woke up. Scully donned capris running pants and a long sleeved work out top before putting her hair up into a pony tail to test her running route with her new housemate. The pavement felt good under her feet and her stride was steady. What felt better was her breathing and she knew her heart would thank her for these moments she put in.

  
The police had been at the crime scene in Philadelphia for a few hours when the call was placed to the FBI. It reached Skinner’s desk before it was directed to Mulder. He had been downstairs in the ordinary house pouring his second cup of coffee when his home phone rang. Just answering calls about cases of the paranormal and unexplained in his underwear put a spring in his step that morning. He hoped it would be a good day. He was feeling productive, determined to make better memories of Philadelphia and hopeful he and Scully could really talk on the drive out.

  
He checked his watch before placing a call out to his enigmatic doctor partner.

  
Scully and Daggoo had been out for thirty minutes when his call came to her cell phone. She answered on her headphones and stopped to stretch as he gave her the run down on what he got from Skinner.

  
“Where are you?” he asked as he looked at ties to bring.

  
Scully huffed and pulled her foot up behind her to stretch her quad. “I’m on the Mall.”

  
“How does Daggoo appreciate your morning routine?” Mulder asked as he placed his suits carefully into a garment bag.

 

He was dressed in a pressed white shirt, boxer briefs and socks pulled up. If Scully was there she might actually find it adorable to watch him pack for himself in such a state.

 

“He likes running better with me than with you,” Scully jibed and looked down to see Daggoo sniffing a tree.

 

He was about to mark one and she turned a little to give him some privacy. Strange, since he insisted on watching her pee, shower, brush her teeth and walked in on her and Mulder having sex more than once.

 

“You wanna drive?” he asked.

  
Scully looked down at her watch. “Meet me at my place in half an hour?”

  
Mulder looked down at his half dressed form. “Maybe forty five?”

  
Scully wished him safe travels to Mulder and hung up the phone to pick out his grey suit and checkered tie. Before he left for three to five days, he emptied his trash bins, washed his six dishes from the night before and this morning and got in his recently purchased Ford Fusion.

  
When he met Scully at her place he left his car in her spot at her apartment’s underground parkade while she waited for him on the street. Daggoo had been picked up by the dog sitter and she told young Casey Wittaker in unit 4B of her apartment building she would see her and Daggoo on Saturday but call later this week if there was a change.

  
They developed new routines but old habits from twenty years ago died hard. When travelling within three hours of Washington, the bureau still encouraged driving versus flying. They were still not encouraged to share hotel rooms but Mulder did receive a memo after their last case that he was allowed to spend over sixty seven dollars per night and the per diem had increased. Skinner also included a list of hotel chains for future reference and he wondered if Scully made a mention to their old and current boss of the pervert-run motel on their last assignment.

  
“So we have a new mix of Mulder’s greatest tunes for this car ride,” he informed her as he hopped in the passenger seat and pulled out his phone. He plugged the usb cable into the headphones plug on his phone and The Platters “Twighlight Time” came on over her speakers.

  
“I promise no laser beams are going to destroy the car,” Mulder said and Scully huffed out a laugh before they pulled onto the street.

  
“Is it all oldies?” Scully asked when Downtown by Petula Clark came on.

  
She looked over to see Mulder grinning and her face flushed. She hadn’t felt the same way about that song since a long trip back to Washington from St Louis when they had first gotten together. They kissed in a shared motel room, made out on a train, took each other’s clothes off and tasted one another for the first time. The song played on the train car’s radio as they ate their dinner and the smirk on his face would have been eye-rolling enducing if she didn’t find it a little funny. The flirtatious nature of her personality had taken over and she hinted that she enjoyed the innuendo more than she had let on in the past.

  
Mulder reached for the control panel on the dashboard to change the song and Scully pushed his hand down and held onto his a few of his fingers for a lingering moment.

 

“I have better music, more recent stuff,” he told her and cleared his throat.

 

“How recent?” Scully asked as she picked up his phone and went to his music app. “Mulder you have a playlist called ‘Scully.’”

 

Mulder’s cheeks pinked a little and he cleared his throat. “Just songs that remind me of you.”

 

Scully clicked on the playlist and smiled. Most of the songs were ones that reminded her of him too. It shocked her to find out how many of them she had heard recently that she hadn’t discussed with him but were there. Sometimes she still wondered if he could read minds or if he just wandered around her thoughts when he felt like he needed to be close to her.

 

“Adele?” she prompted as her entire album 25 showed up on the list. “These songs...”

 

“Well some of them are really cathartic,” he admitted. His hand reached out and pressed the radio button on the dash and transferred off the music to a local station Scully enjoyed.

 

“I have that album too,” Scully confessed.

 

“Sometimes it helps... I mean I have more than just sad songs on there,” he said with a shrug.

 

“I can’t believe you have Al Greene on here,” she said as she continued to scroll through the list. “Who is Shawn Hook?”

 

Mulder reached over and turned the media back on. The sound of a pop song from last year filled the car and Scully studied him. It was the simplest of songs, a bubble gum beat but it was everything they had endured the last twenty three years. It was embarrassing.

 

The rest of the car ride went smoothly enough. As they drove through Baltimore they discussed her mom, the brother Mulder met once who was estranged and trying to figure out why. He had made a point of showing up to her birthday with his family, played nicely with everyone before never calling again.

 

Even when Maggie had ended up in the hospital before, he didn’t answer his phone at the possibility it could be life threatening. They had held one another in that hospital and Mulder urged Scully to come home then but life got in the way. She was consistent for a few weeks but work took over.

 

Before the X-Files brought them back together, she could hide at the hospital when things went sour with them.

 

Mulder didn’t really want to bring up the past in a way that would make her regret driving in with him. He just wanted her her to finally make a plan. He would wait as long as she needed, he didn’t have any choice in the matter. His heart picked her long before he knew it and he wasn’t going to give up. Not now. Not after all they’d seen and done together.

 

Unfortunately, they avoided the heavy topics that involved their emotions unless there was a tragedy or a life-threatening situation because that’s who they were. They played so much off the idea that the romance would ruin their partnership when it didn’t the first time around. What ruined them was everything else, including but not limited to his obsession they were all going to die December 22, 2012. What a relief and a shock when they didn’t.

 

As they passed the Wells Fargo Center, Mulder shifted in his seat.

 

“I might have suggested we go see a game while we were here,” he started. “But these guys are pretty painful to watch. Even if it is live sports, it’s not worth it.”

 

Scully looked over to him. “We can find something else fun to do in Philadelphia.”

 

She braced herself for a comment about tattoo parlours but Mulder pulled the edges of his mouth down in an impressed frown. It was a face he made when he was contemplating suggestive statements.

 

Mulder parked the car outside the federal office building and he turned off the car. “Are you ready G-woman?”

 

“Let’s get it on, honey,” Scully teased and exited the car.

 

It was supposed to be a regular case to Philidelphia. Not really but sort of. A federal employee had been murdered and they were called in because of the nature of the murder.

 

“The superspinatus and deltoideus appear to be shredded from the torso not severed, as do the other points of separation,” Scully noted as she studied the body.

 

“So what are you telling me?” the detective asked. “That he was pulled apart?”

 

“Well, I don’t think that would be possible for a single human being,” she replied.

 

“The homeless out there, they hate this guy, this Cutler. They see him as a reason for being relocated out to the old Franklin Hospital,” the detective explained as Scully’s phone rang.

 

What she hadn’t told Mulder on the car ride to Philadelphia was that William had been weighing on her mind. He always was. He was in the back of her thoughts but sometimes the feelings of guilt and regret bubbled up. It didn’t make sense today as to why. Maybe since taking Daggoo in and exercising a nurturing side of herself that was only helpful in medicine, she was reminded of what was sacrificed. Those thoughts were pushed aside while she read to Mulder from the paper he picked up on his way into DC. It was a ritual they had started when they began their journey as more than friends and waded into the territory of lovers.

 

It shocked her to see William on her Caller ID but she quickly realized it was her mind playing tricks on her. When she answered the call on the second attempt from Bill Jr., her heart sank. He never called in the middle of the day, let alone during the week. He was stationed in Germany and due to the time difference, they usually only spoke on weekends. Her mind raced and she felt sick to her stomach. They had been in Philadelphia for less than an hour and she needed to get back to DC at that moment.

 

Mulder had her keys. She didn’t need her overnight bag, she just needed to go.

  
A forty two dollar cab ride, a three hundred dollar plane ticket from Philadelphia to Washington DC and another sixty dollar fare took her to her mother’s bedside. She felt as though she was vibrating the entire time. Her endocrine system was releasing information from her hypothalamus to her autonomic nervous system. Her pituitary gland was producing mass levels of epinephrine and cortisol or as she would put it to Mulder, “stress hormones.”

 

She recognized these in her body and yet, she remained tight as a drum until she reached her mother’s bed. Maggie wasn’t in the ICU like she was told previously. ICU was where patients are cared for after a surgery. She was in palliative care. This wasn’t a wing of the hospital that patients left. The doctors weren’t there to perform any life-saving actions and no extreme measures would be taken. It didn’t sink into her mind that Maggie was in the wrong place. It didn’t sink in her mind the doctors around her wouldn’t do what was necessary to help her make it through this because what was the other option?

 

What she wasn’t expecting was the news that Charlie had been asked after. She wasn’t expecting to plead with her mother that she had to stay for a grandson she only had a few months with.

 

By the time the nurse arrived with the news of her mother’s recently signed DNR orders, she had more questions about the woman who raised her than certainties she knew about what Maggie Scully wanted. Why the quarter? Why change her living will without discussing it with her? Why was she asking for a son who had made it known he wanted little to nothing to do with them?

 

Logically, she knew she needed to appreciate and support her mother’s wishes. Internally, she was screaming at the lack of communication her mother had given her. Her mother, who had always told her to share her feelings instead of bottling them up, had secrets of her own. This was the same woman who asked Dana to just tell her what was going on with her cancer, with her pregnancy and giving up her son instead of dealing with it privately. Perhaps the secretive side of Scully was inherited more than she realized.

 

Maggie, in turn, seemed to make this decision with the consultation of some close friends instead of turning to her daughter. It felt like a slap in the face after all they had been through. As she sat with the quarter and chain in her hands, she wondered if this was how Maggie felt when she discovered Dana had a DNR after a distressing abduction and an even more mysterious return. She could only imagine how Maggie felt when she learned of her daughter’s cancer from Mulder because she’d shared that diagnosis with her best friend before her own mother.

 

Possibly this is how she felt when Dana called three weeks after Mulder disappeared and she was ten weeks pregnant with his child. She still remembers the conversation when she met her mother for tea that afternoon. The morning sickness was still powerful. She asked for peppermint tea to help combat her nausea and ate saltines from a bag in her purse. Her mother could tell before she even told her but they cried after Dana got the words out. They cried harder when she told her Mulder was gone and she didn’t know how to find him because her mother didn’t believe in aliens, conspiracies or the world being anything but the creation by God’s hand.

 

The doctor sat across from her with a solemn face and an apologetic tone Scully had used on patients not ten weeks ago. Usually the tone was used when there was a complication and there was an unexpected turn. Listening to someone tell her about respecting wishes and how to deal with what would come next was not a hand of cards she was prepared to be dealt. Extubation was not termination. Extubation was not deciding to end her mother’s life because Margaret Scully had already did that.

 

Of course, Mulder would call from the outer doors of the ICU. He might not be on the family list these days but he still worried he was encroaching on a very personal time for her. What he didn’t realize is that during all of her hardest trials, the only person she wanted beside her was him. Even when she told him to leave after she decided to stop treatment on Emily, she went to him in the wee hours of the morning. While Dana Scully might suffer in silence, she leaned to him when she broke.

 

He was there when she lost her father before she had realized that could happen to her. Women in their thirties weren’t supposed to lose their parents before they buried any hatchets or cleared the air. That conversation never happened. He was there when she lost her sister when it should have been her. A gunshot wound to the head in her home, surgery that put Melissa in a coma and the justice that never came for a man who lived with the rats. He stood by her when she lost a daughter that was never meant to be. A child that lived a pained life from too many tests, medications that couldn’t fight what she was and the science that Scully knew inside and out but failed them all. He knew about stolen possibilities of any potential children before she did while he tried to shield her from one more loss and he found a glimmering chance of hope.

 

When she lost him, she almost lost herself completely. When she gave up their son, he understood because it was their fight that cost them so much. So tonight he was there for her as she faced the thought of losing her mother. She took solace in his voice, his presence and the comfort in the words of his motivation to work.

 

“I’m here,” his words rang through her.

 

She met him toward the outer area of the bay of beds. She could tell this made him uncomfortable and he shifted his gaze toward the door many times as though he was expecting Bill Jr. to barge through the doors at any moment.

 

“He’s on a flight from Frankfurt,” she said

 

Mulder nodded in an attempt to appear nonchalant as he fished a handful of seeds out of his pocket. He held his hand out and she took one. She studied the shell between her fingers and knew the symbolism of this olive branch. She heard the familiar crunch of the seed between his teeth and and she saw him dispose of the crumbled shell back into his palm. Mulder drew a small divide between the used shells and seeds to be eaten as he did when he wasn’t close to a trash can or have a container for the spat out seeds.

 

Scully looked down to the bench and saw an empty Styrofoam cup near the leg of the chair and she handed it to him. Mulder dumped the moist, used seeds inside and put a handful of dry, uneaten ones back in his pocket. Of all the habits he had to have, she was glad it was seeds and not smoking or alcohol. Although, the way the man used her body when he needed the distraction, she felt like an addiction as well.

 

Amidst the chaos of the ICU, the recent discussion with the medical staff and the impending conversation with her big brother, she found the quiet of Mulder’s presence and his need to take up space around her comforting. Even though they used to drive her crazy, whether they were just loose in the office, in the furniture, their cars or she was sweeping the discarded shells into trash bins, she saw them and knew he was there.

 

“Tell me about the case,” she prompted.

 

Mulder must have seen something in her eyes because he did. He distracted her for thirty five minutes with discussions of who the players, the pawns and opposition seemed to be. She wouldn’t buy the idea of the Band-Aid Nose Man so he skipped that. Plus, all he had was a clue from a transient man and a painting that disappeared before he could get any more clues about it. The band-aid had nothing on it. It was, for lack of a better word, gooey and gross. What did that tell them? So far, nothing.

 

“There was some artwork displayed outside Cutler’s office after the murder,” Mulder reported as she handled the necklace and charm. “It’s of a figure. People on the street believe it defends them.”

 

He could see her lack of interest, her eyes wandering away from him but she asked him to talk about work.

 

“The street artist that made the artwork goes by the name Trash-Man,” he continued. “No one knows his real name. He stays anonymous. No one’s ever seen him. I suspect the subject may be a mission oriented killer who believes he’s helping the homeless by eliminating those involved in the relocation.”

 

Yet her mind wouldn’t allow her to remain distracted by this case and the people involved. Her heart wanted to deal with what was going on. She brought up everything she had learned since arriving that afternoon.

 

“And I would stay,” he said and she understood. “But I suspect the subject with kill again.”

 

“She asked for Charlie,” she whispered. “Before she fell into the coma.”

 

“Your brother?” Mulder knew the black sheep name, met him once but had rarely heard Maggie mention him.

 

“Yeah,” Scully almost laughed at the thought. “Just him. Not Bill or me or-” She almost said Melissa. “I don’t even know where he is. He hasn’t bothered with her or us for years. Why would she do that?”

 

Mulder shook his head. The Scully women did so much he never understood. Mostly, they fell for stubborn men who believed they knew best.

 

“And why would she change her living will without talking to me?” she continued.

 

Mulder huffed his chest and leaned his head against the back of the padded bench. His arms laid along the back in a way to take up as much space as he possibly could while allowing her own.

 

“And what’s this?” she looked down at the pendant and then handed it over to Mulder. He pressed the image onto his mind for a later time to investigate. “I’ve never seen her wear it. The- the- the date has no significance. It’s not any of our birthdays. Not Dad’s death or Melissa’s. What is it about that quarter that she would frame it and put it around her neck?”

 

Mulder handed the piece back to her and he opened his mouth to say he didn’t know but the medical team began the extubation process on Maggie.

 

He wasn’t going to be a voyeur on another tragedy to the Scully family history. Maggie couldn’t place a hand on Bill’s arm to quiet him and he wasn’t going to listen to Dana when she told him that it was enough. What Mulder knew about the pain of family loss was that the anger that erupted out of himself was unstoppable. He could only imagine how Bill would react to seeing his sister’s estranged partner holding and comforting her.

 

Scully touched his thigh to get up. Whatever his intentions were to leave before, he knew in all realities that he couldn’t. He had to hold her back from the team as they took Maggie off life support. She didn’t pull away. She started to falter and feel herself crumble.

 

“I don’t care about the big questions right now, Mulder,” she said as he pulled her towards him. “I just want the chance to ask my mom a few little ones.”

 

It was so familiar and so easy to allow him to be there. She knew that letting down these walls and relying on him would bring up more than just the feeling of familiar loss. He would be the constant and touchstone to her at any moment.

 

Selfishly, she stood while he held her for fifteen minutes.

 

“Dana?” the nurse interrupted her brief thoughts of her absorbing the warmth of Mulder’s broad chest and she stepped away from him. “We have a cafeteria on the next floor...”

 

“I don’t want to leave in case-” Scully’s breath caught in her throat.

 

Mulder realized she probably hadn’t left her mother’s bed side to use the rest room or eat since she arrived. He pulled on her elbow.

 

“Come on Scully, let’s get some hospital take out,” he urged.

 

The nurse gave Mulder a grateful smile and he managed to get her to pick out a sandwich, fruit plate, veggies and dip and some drinks. It wasn’t the best meal they had shared in a while but given the circumstances he was grateful for the respite for her.

 

Mulder set their feast on the tray at the end of Maggie’s bed and watched as Scully picked a few items and put them into a napkin to sit at the chair across from him. He took a few vegetables for himself and sat across from her. Mulder couldn’t distract her with the case or with the anecdotes of the relationship between Nancy Huff and Daryl Landry. She might smile about the “douche bag” comment and Mulder’s assumption they were married but another time.

 

“Back in the day,” she started as she did when she mentioned anything from the nineties. Mulder liked to wince when she mentioned their age or how long it had been since they started on the X-Files. “Did we ever come across the ability to just wish someone back to life.”

 

“I invented it,” he told her and he was certain he did. “When you were in the hospital… Like this.”

 

“You’re a dark wizard Mulder,” she teased.

 

“What else is new?” he said and they shared a laugh.

 

It wasn’t inappropriate to find any joy in this moment. When she was in the hospital wishing her to come back to life, he was surrounded by the other Scully women. They saw his passion, his care and his absolute need for her to make it through this. Not because he couldn’t take another loss because he couldn’t go on his quest without her at his side.

 

If he knew then what he was feeling would lead them down this journey, he wouldn’t have changed a day even though it lead them here. Estranged or whatever they were. 

 

The fire inside of him to find answers and discover truths was only fueled by her pushing him. If he lost her then, he might have not have lived to see thirty five let alone his fifty fifth birthday.

 

They didn’t have much experience sitting across from one another, over a patient in a hospital bed. They prepared to mourn one another before they lost so many others. Usually they were gone too soon and Mulder couldn’t harness his dark magic to bring them back. It only worked on his mother for three years and he lost her to her own hand.

 

He could forgive his mother for taking her own life but he couldn’t forgive God for taking Maggie Scully’s. Not right now when there was still so much life left in her. This wasn't a woman who gave up and God was cruel to take her before their family had a chance to mend. 

 

It was all too soon. They were just getting back on better footing. He liked the way she called him Fox and she took him into the fold of the Scully family. He liked that she inspired the strength in her daughters and a will to persevere.

 

Scully might have invented the unswaying skeptic but she held truth in what he could do. While she might not believe people could disappear into thin air, she put faith in Mulder to keep them there, even if it was just for a little longer.

 

Mulder worried he used up all his dark magic on her but that was the problem when you needed someone so badly. You knew it wasn’t wasted.

 

The vibration of her phone took them from that moment and she had to plead with her younger brother to talk to Maggie. The selfishness of his actions, removing himself from the family tree and appearing as though he was above their drama all ringing through a speaker phone conversation with a woman who was in a coma. Nice, Charlie. Something in Scully’s voice must have convinced him because Mulder was about two seconds away from lecturing him about family duty.

 

Of course, Charlie had to be petulant even as his mother was on her death bed. The urge to punch a Scully-brother seemed to be universal. 

 

“Mom?” Scully was shocked to see her mother open her eyes and Mulder leaned over the bed to see her. “She just opened her eyes.”

 

“Do know where you are? Do you know your name?” Mulder asked as she made eye contact with him.

 

“My son is named William too,” Maggie said as she reached for Mulder.

 

Her face was lit up with the memory of two babies she held in her arms that brought her joy and sorrow. Two babies that no longer could fit in her arms or see her before she took her last breaths.

 

And then, that was it. The last words of a woman who saw and did so much, with a mystery necklace and secrets. She mentioned their son. Her heart failed and the sound of the machines flatlining filled their space.

  
“Mom? Mom! Mom it’s Dana! I’m here! Mom come back to us!” Scully pleaded. “Mom! Mom!”

 

Maggie was gone and the only thing left was a shell of a woman. Mulder had to walk around to her side of the bed to pull her to stand as the doctor came in to finally call time of death. Scully shrugged off his touch and he gave her space.

 

The nurse stood off to the side with Mulder and gave Mulder information about bereavement counselling. Scully, of course, would refuse it at first. His conversation was interrupted as the normally quiet and reserved woman he admired began to yell at the hospital staff that were trying to take Maggie’s body for organ harvesting.

 

“No! You get that out of here! Get that out of here!”

 

“Scully, Scully, Scully, no,” he interrupted. Mulder pulled on her and pressed her head to his chest. “Margaret’s an organ donor. They need her right away.”

 

Scully could feel the weakened tethers of her self control loosen. The tears began to fall and she truly broke down. He rubbed his hands um and down her back as he swayed their bodies in a slow back and forth motion.

 

“Her last words to us-” she hiccuped as she clutched the material of Mulder’s shirt with the necklace hanging around her fingers. “Were about our child. Her grandchild... That we gave away.”

 

She was broken. She was no longer tethered. She was cracked in two. The depth of her loss was only amplified by the reminder she lost her son too.

 

“Why did she have to say that?” she asked as her breath hitched in her throat.

 

She turned her head to watch as they rolled Maggie’s body away toward the organ harvest surgery.

 

“Mulder, let’s drive to Philadelphia,” Scully suggested desperately.

 

“No, no...”

 

“I need to work,” she pleaded as she pulled on his tie. “Yes, right now.”

 

“I get it, Scully, I do,” he tried to reason.

 

“Mulder right now!” she cried desperately. “Right now. I need to work right now!”

 

She pulled out of his arms and gathered her things. She walked with a purpose down the hallway and to the elevator banks. She wasn’t going to get far. He had her keys and he was the one that would get them back. She wasn’t in any state to drive let alone catch a monster, but what could he say? He wasn’t going to deny her this distraction. As she often did, he followed her.

 

She was waiting for the elevator doors to open as she struggled to get her jacket on. Her bag sat at her feet and her phone lay beside it. He had donned his own suit jacket as he approached and took in the sight of her things. Mulder took the collar of the jacket and helped her slide it on. Their fingers brushed as she pulled it closed and she looked down at her personal items on the floor. He put her phone in her bag and slid the strap up her arm gently.

  
If there was one thing they had learned over the years it was how to gauge where the other one was at. He could see she wasn’t fit to return to work but out of the two of them, he wasn’t going to be able to give a sound argument why not. They buried themselves in work before the stifling silence of their lack of communication would somehow strangle them until the dam of feelings burst. It was coming. It always did.

  
Silence echoed throughout the car that desperately needed words but they had none. All she had was the radio and Mulder humming quietly. He didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts and he didn’t want to force her to talk about what had just happened. He couldn’t.

  
For all the years they had known each other, he couldn’t force the feelings out. He couldn’t make her do what she wasn’t ready to do. Scullys were stubborn.

  
That stubbornness kept a rift between Mulder and Bill Scully Jr. because no matter how happy he made her, Bill would always see what he lost because of him. It created a rift between Charlie and the rest of the family, because he lived his life with no apologies and the Scully children were taught to at least be polite, fall in line, and be good little sailors. The rebellious streak seemed to grow with each child and while Scully’s was tapered with an MD and an FBI badge, she got a thrill out of breaking the rules with Mulder more than she let on.

He looked over across the car to her and saw her fingering the quarter on the necklace in her right hand with a crumpled Kleenex. He reached across the seat and took her hand in his. She felt cold to touch.

 

“Thank you for being there,” she said.

  
Mulder pulled the car off onto the side of the road and undid his seat belt as he looked at her. “Where else would I be?”

  
When someone has seen you through every loss, you see them through theirs. Her father, his father, her sister, his mother… and now hers. They’ve lost so much and while they felt they had lost each other, they had to find their way back. Scully shook her head and wiped angrily at a tear that dared to fall.

  
Her determination not to be broken by mortality and the fragility of her emotions only made the exhaustion set in.

  
“I know you wanted to get back to Philadelphia earlier-”

  
“We’ll get there,” he assured her.

  
“There’s no one to bring to justice this time,” she told him as she took off her seat belt. “No one to chase down a dark alley and blame.”

  
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep and let me curse God for a while.” He told her that once before as she mourned the loss of a patient she was desperately trying to save. It was a bad time for them too.

  
Scully reached across the car and pulled Mulder to her. She hugged him as tightly as she could in a luxury SUV and he rubbed her back as the sobs escaped her. This wouldn’t be the only time she would break down. He allowed for the tears to fall until she was too tired to cry anymore.

  
He pulled off the shoulder of the road when she was all cried out and at her request, they didn’t mention it. Scullys liked to bury their feelings.  


 


	13. Philadelphia Feelings

As they entered the city, a familiar sign that read “Welcome to Philadelphia, Enjoy our Past, Experience our Future” sat on the side of the road. Mulder swerved to avoid a pothole and Scully braced herself on the door of the car.  
  
Philadelphia is the largest city in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the fifth most populated city in the USA with over 1.5 million inhabitants. The city played an instrumental role in the American Revolution as a meeting place for the Founding Fathers.  
  
He looked over to her as she sat in the car, the necklace her mom wore still playing in her fingers. They were so young the first time they came here, so unhardened by life’s tragedies. It all felt like a lifetime ago.   
  
He was so insistent on seeing the Liberty Bell after they solved Howard Graves murder that she acquiesced to their side-trip before heading back to Washington. In his photographic memory, he can still see the inscription. The Liberty Bell in Philadelphia bears a message of “Proclaim Liberty Throughout All the Land Unto All the Inhabitants Thereof,” from the Book of Leviticus 25:10. Scully reported to Mulder it was originally commissioned in the 1750s for the tower of Pennsylvania State House and ordered by the Speaker of the Pennsylvania Assembly, Isaac Norris. The purpose of the bell was to summon lawmakers to legislative sessions and alert citizens to public meetings and proclamations. He remembered being impressed with her then about little factoids she knew that would be interesting to only him.   
  
That was when they did little things like that, took side trips after cases and enjoyed the local fare without it feeling too much like a date. It was after their case with Lauren Kyte that Mulder began watching people who watched them in public.  
  
As Scully read menus or visitor maps, Mulder liked to look around restaurants, parks and landmarks they visited to see if anyone was watching them. It was half out of paranoia and half out of curiosity.   
  
It was on one of those side trips that he first noticed another man, several actually, giving Scully an appreciative once over. She was in street clothes, not her usual FBI gear because they had a four-hour drive ahead of them. It was back in the day that she still wore jeans and she looked almost like a college freshman with her hair up in a ponytail and a fitted T-shirt that she bought in a gift shop. It read “Discover ALL of Atlantic City,” with the silhouette of a woman laying underneath. It was as much innuendo as she would allow at the time of their partnership but he liked it just the same. She took his sunglasses off his face and looked around the boardwalk of Atlantic City and smiled at him. He let her wear them while she read the visitor’s map and he slung an arm over her shoulder as she pointed at the landmarks. It was fun and friendly, nothing overt about it but he still felt confused when she suddenly popped into a sexual dream he had that night when they got back to D.C. What wonders he discovered when he finally experienced the real thing.  
  
As much as it would have complicated their working relationship at the time, it also might not have been as appreciated if they had fallen into bed together back then. He appreciated the beginning of their partnership when they were learning to trust one another. Those times were hard because of elements more commonly known as Mulder’s stubbornness. Sure, it made Scully fall in love with him but it also made him feel like a giant asshole in retrospect.  
  
As they drove past the bell on their way to their hotel, Mulder wondered if the unexplained phenomenon of that time was ever cause for a bell to be rung.  
  
The Sleep Inn Center City near the Liberty Bell was a smoke-free facility with only two star-rating yet it was within the budget approved by the federal government. Due to the old layout, there were still a few adjoining rooms and Mulder managed to snag the last set.   
  
By the time they arrived at the hotel, it was after midnight and they were both exhausted. Mulder watched as she leaned against the elevator on the ride up with her eyes closed. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were still red from crying. He thought about reaching out to touch her but he thought better of it.  
  
The way he had been feeling that morning, he thought their sleeping arrangements would have been a blessing. After what she had been through today, he was sure she would be asking for space and ready to shut him out.  
 

“Who are we meeting with tomorrow morning?” Scully asked without opening her eyes.

  
“The forensics lab,” Mulder said as he pulled a seed out of his pocket and studied it. “They have some paint samples from the graffiti.”

  
If he watched her any longer, he might lose his resolution not to touch her. He could so easily pull her into his room instead of wishing her good night and take her to bed. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need for her so strongly, especially while she was hurt but it was there. The longing was setting in and he realized it was due to the time frame. It had been a week and a half since she slept over and made promises as he pushed himself in and out of her, saying that she loved him and wanted to come home.

  
The snail’s pace at which they originally found themselves transition from partners to friends to lovers was nothing compared to the way in which she decided to commit to him and run from him again and again.

  
He reminded himself that right now she didn’t need a lover or a bed mate. She needed his friendship and his strength to draw from, not to be possessed by him as he was imagining in his mind. He pictured pressing her into the wall of the elevator or stripping her down as the door closed on his room.

  
He needed to get space from her. Now.

 

“Mulder, does this hotel have a mini bar?” she asked as the doors opened to their floor.

 

He shoved one hand in his pocket and pushed on the door elevator button to keep the doors from closing on them. “I think so.”

  
“I need something strong,” she said in a low voice that went straight to his groin.

  
He took her key out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “We’re in 607 and 609.”

  
Scully followed him down the hallway to the corner unit where their doors waited. She was walking slowly behind him, swaying from the over-exertion of emotions and a long day of traveling to and from Philadelphia twice.

 

“Six oh nine,” Scully repeated as she took a key from his hand. “I’ll take that one.”

 

“Have you already raided the mini-bar?” Mulder asked as he opened his door.

 

Scully rolled her eyes as she chose to ignore his comment and opened her door.

 

Their rooms were chilly and he walked over to the thermostat by the window to turn the heat on. The open door into Scully’s room alerted him that she had found the alcohol and her shoes were being tossed toward her room door.

 

_Thump. Thump._

 

He shed his jacket and hung it in the small closet near his door. On the floor next to where he shed his shoes sat their bags. It was another sad image of his and hers that didn’t reflect their status. Not that they were permitted to share a room anyway, but this wasn’t exactly the night to wish for such things.

  
When he knocked on the doorway to her room, he saw her standing at the desk with a mini bottle of vodka in a glass or the remnants remained with lipstick on the rim.

 

“Vodka for your thoughts?” Scully tossed him a bottle and Mulder caught it with his free hand.

 

“No mix?” he asked as he set her suitcase near the bed.

 

Scully cocked her head to the side. “I was thinking for my next one, I might water it down with something.”

 

“I’ll go get the ice,” he said immediately and took her bucket down to the machine near the elevators.

 

When he came back Scully was laying on the bed with the television on and two glasses waiting with a pink mix of what appeared to be cranberry juice and vodka. She was about to start her second glass and Mulder dumped a handful of ice into each short glass.

  
This was how it started with them in Shorewood, Wisconsin. A few drinks, some flirting and they ended up fucking in her hotel room before a long day of poltergeist chasing. That was entirely his fault and he assumed it wasn’t one-sided in the slightest.

 

What he was feeling right now was a primal urge toward her and now was neither the time nor the place. He might have forgotten a lot of his teachings from his Martha’s Vineyard upbringing, his East Coast old money ways, but one thing he always knew was that taking advantage of a woman when she’s mourning is a pretty low move.

 

When she lost her father, he saw the vulnerability and the openness from her towards him. If he had her then, his urge to possess and own her in her time of need, at least he was able to recognize it was a basic instinct. He might not always understand the background or roots of these urges but he was reflective enough in himself as a man to know when to shove them down.

  
It’s not helpful or necessarily warranted to grope your partner’s backside in the office no matter how lovely she looks in her pantsuit with her tiny waist. That he understood. That he was aware of. 

  
However since tasting the forbidden fruit that was Dana Scully, he unfortunately felt as those rules had gotten a little lax. He had to remind himself not to crawl on top of her while she sat on the bed and slowly peel her FBI attire off her lithe body. He wasn’t a caveman, he had processing thoughts but sometimes it was difficult to push aside the urges inside him. This was definitely going to be one of those times. 

  
“Mulder?” she prompted as she held her hand out for her drink.

 

“I’m just thinking,” he admitted.

 

“I can see that,” she noted as she studied his face. She took a long sip from her glass and patted the mattress next to her.

 

“I probably shouldn’t,” he admitted and took a step away from the bed.

 

“I’ll be a gentleman,” she teased and he rolled his eyes.

 

He could tell she saw his hesitation. What worried him is that she didn’t care nor seem to mind either way.

 

“Come on, Mulder,” she patted the bed again. She waggled her eyebrows. “We’re married now.”

 

“Maybe you’ve had enough to drink,” he said as he sat down in the empty space on the bed.

 

She changed the channel to Encore Avenue and The Royal Tenenbaums opening credits came on.

 

It’s funny she settled on that movie because they watched it on video once while on the run in Washington state. Mulder remembered buying buttery popcorn bags to pop in a microwave in the hotel lobby with a hood and sunglasses on while Scully got beer from the liquor store down the street. It was 2003 and they had assumed different names for so long he ended up calling her by her middle name. She called him Marty and they pretended it was normal. It wasn’t but the movie made them laugh when not a lot of things did.

 

He bought her shamrock bed shorts because he thought they were kind of funny and very Irish. They made her smile at the time when she didn’t have much reason to and he was a sucker for seeing her gums when she was really happy. He wasn’t supposed to be the sacrifice that cost her everything.

 

Even now, he couldn’t blame this familial loss on himself but somehow he felt guilty. She was away from Washington. Maybe if she was still at the hospital, she would have had the morning off and would have been visiting her mother. Maybe she would have diagnosed the heart attack before it happened. Scully worked miracles all the time. Surely she could stop the heart from giving out before it happened. He had faith in her like that.

  
Mulder sat on the bed next to her and pushed the pillow up against the headboard so it was standing up on one end. He wiggled his head so that it created a hollow U behind him and he took a long sip from his drink.

 

“Royal Tenenbaums, eh?” he noted.

 

“All that’s missing is my shamrock shorts,” Scully replied with a wry smile.

 

“I think they’re still at the house somewhere,” he mentioned and immediately regretted it.

 

“Nope, I wore them last week while I was doing laundry,” Scully retorted quickly.  
Mulder looked over to her and watched her blink slowly at the television. She was spacing out, tired and a little tipsy. Usually, Scully was a giddy drunk. That Scully swore a little more, flirted openly and kissed him suddenly. That Scully shouldn’t make appearances when she was going through this.

  
He remembered how completely destroyed he was after he lost his mother. He can only imagine how she must be processing all of this.

  
“It’s smart to have the kids in bright red sweat suits,” Scully noted as she finished off her drink. “They’re easily spotted.”

  
“I can always spot _you_ ,” he said without thinking but referring to her red hair.

  
Scully picked up a few strands of her curled tresses and frowned at them. “I don’t know how we all turned out with red hair versus dark like Mom’s.”

  
“A really smart doctor told me once that red hair appears most commonly in people with two copies of a recessive allele on chromosome sixteen,” Mulder replied.

 

Scully studied his face. “Who?”

 

She really wasn’t all there.

 

“You.”

 

Her eyes widened. “When did I tell you that?”

 

“Easter weekend 2011 when your mother showed me all of your baby pictures,” he replied and she nodded slowly as though she was recalling the lecture. Mulder merely had asked Maggie how all the kids ended up with red hair since dark hair was a dominant gene. Scully sat down with her coffee and brownie, proceeded to explain the science behind her red hair while Mulder looked at her with fond appreciation.

 

She was smart and quiet and she dropped little nuggets of scientific factoids in everyday conversation like it was no big deal. He liked that about her.

  
He saw pictures of Bill, Charlie and Melissa too and his heart ached at how much Emily looked like her lost sister. He wondered if William would be strawberry blonde or have dark chestnut hair like his. When Scully told him about the gene, he immediately thought back to any red heads in the Mulder family line. Upon a quick review of the family tree the he did for Grade 10 Biology, he remembered there was one by marriage on his mother’s side. When he pictured William then and to this day, he had light brown hair and Scully’s big blue eyes.

  
The movie played on and Scully fixed them each another drink. Mulder didn’t really want to drink but he wasn’t the type to let a lady drink on her own. As Royal Tenenbaum moved into a house for his fake stomach cancer, Scully studied her glass.

  
“I think I need something stronger than this,” she noted and finished off what was left in her third glass.

  
Mulder took her tumbler from her and put it on the desk next to his. If he poured her a fourth she would spend the next morning feeling sick because that’s what happened to Scully after not very much food and a few drinks.

  
She was standing behind him now and she put her hands on his hips and pushed her face into his back. He could feel the heat of her through the material of his shirt and she was now slipping her hands into his pockets. He knew she wasn’t looking for car keys or his cell phone.

  
“Hey, Scully,” Mulder warned and pulled her hands out. He turned around to her and took her wrists in his hand as he tugged her body toward him. “Come on.”

  
“Exactly,” she whispered. “I need this.”

“No, Scully,” he said softly.

Her face contorted into a look of disapproval and she tore her hands from his grasp. “Why not?”

“This isn’t who we are anymore,” he explained.

It was true. They were more than two people who used one another when they felt bad or low. He thought they were. Over the last few months, things started to come together for them.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she snapped and pushed on his chest again.

He felt as though they were at a familiar stand still. Except this time they were in Philadelphia together and he wasn’t happy to be the man to distract her from what was going on around her.

He reached out for her hands to stop her from pushing him again, and not out of violence or anger but in a turnabout is fair play, he gave her a light push back.

She grabbed onto his tie and pulled his face down to hers and planted her mouth on his. Their kiss was heated with the frustration they were both feeling. His came from wanting her but knowing it was wrong and hers came from believing she needed him in this way and his refusal to be used like that.

“Scully,” he whispered as he pulled away. He was cursing every male hormone that was reacting to her. “We can’t.”

  
She slipped a hand between them, into his pocket and gave his member a long stroke. He was hard and his eyes closed at the sensation of her hands on him.

“Mulder, I think you _can_.”

He allowed her to stroke him again before he pulled her wrist away. “Don’t Scully.”  
  
Her anger boiled out of her and she swung her hand to slap him. He grabbed her wrist and she pulled on it to try to get it out of his grasp. He was bigger, stronger and had more in his system than a veggie plate from the hospital.

  
“Let go!” she shouted but he wouldn’t. “God, why can’t you-”

 

“Scully stop,” he interrupted.

 

“Oh but when your mother passed away and after you made me do an autopsy on her, that was okay!” she spat back at him. “It’s okay for my body to be there for you when you need it but not the other way around!”

 

Mulder took a step away from her and dropped her hands. He didn’t think of what happened between them that night as someone using another. But maybe he did. He had crumbled on the floor and she held him until he stopped crying.

 

He had clutched onto her so tightly and pulled at her clothing until she was nearly naked in his living room. As far as fifth times go it was hot and sweaty, raw and powerful. When they made it to the bed and got out of their clothing, he was sure nothing was coerced on his part. She was open and pliable. She came and held him until he fell asleep. When she woke in the morning, she had teeth marks on her collarbone and across her hip bones.

 

“Are you saying something that happened that night was untoward?” he asked.

 

“I’m saying I was there for you and you could at least be there for me,” she grumbled and pushed on his chest again.

 

He shook his head and held up a hand. “Scully, for fucks sake’s we’re not those people anymore. We’ve come too far with one another. We’ve lost so much more and grown up. God dammit, we said vows.”

 

Scully took a step back from him. Of all the times to remind her that they were legally and under the eyes of God a married couple, this was probably not the best time. Yet he was sick of her ignoring that fact. They couldn’t get the marriage annulled and she wouldn’t divorce him so they were left with an estrangement that hardly worked because they kept ending up in bed together.

 

It just wasn’t fair to either of them anymore.

 

“Don’t,” she said and walked across the room.

 

He grabbed her arm and turned her around. “Don’t what? Remind you of what we did? That I’m not here for when you feel lonely? If you want me like that, you have to take it all Scully. Not just the good shit you feel like sticking around for.”

 

“Why are you doing this right now?” she cried as a tear fell.

 

“I’m not going to help you distract yourself right now with that,” he said gesturing with his free hand toward the bed.

 

“I need that, why can’t you just give me that,” she kept repeating. She wasn’t drunk enough to ask him to fuck her but she was close.

 

She wasn’t desperate like at the hospital. She was angry and frustrated with the other emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with. She didn’t want to deal with the sadness she had boiling up inside her, ready to explode out like a geyser. What was emanating was frustration and anger.

 

“You wouldn’t forgive me if we did. That’s not what you need,” he said as he enveloped her in his arms. Deep down he knew she knew he was right. “You need a friend tonight.”

 

Scully huffed into his chest. “Fine.”

 

He crossed to his room to brush his teeth and when he came back she was dressed in a nightgown for bed. Not his old Knicks T-Shirt but the reaction was still the same. He tamped down his urges and got into the opposite side from her.

 

Scully set an alarm on her phone, as did he, and they met in the middle of the bed.

 

“Since when did you become such an upstanding guy?” she asked as he pulled her to his chest.

 

“I put a ring on your finger. I made an honest woman out of you eventually,” he reminded her.

 

She wiped a few tears from her eyes. “Thank you.”

 

“What are friends for?” he asked.

 

 

***

 

As the sun shone through the windows of her hotel room and the coffee percolated on the desk, Mulder awoke to Scully’s phone vibrating on her bedside table. She was curled on her side, facing toward him and sleeping soundly. If they had nothing else to do today, he might suggest she stay in bed and mourn but the emotional availability she would need to do that was beyond her capabilities today. Scully had to process it slowly and in her own time.

  
Mulder reached across her and answered her phone, not looking at the caller ID.

  
“Hello?” Mulder’s voice was gritty from sleep and he turned his head to clear his throat.  
  


“Mister Mulder,” a voice greeted. Mulder’s heart sank. It was Bill Jr.  
  


“Hi Bill,” he replied and glanced down at Scully. No movement. The woman really could sleep through anything.  
  


“Is my sister there?” he asked with a hint in his voice he hoped she wasn’t. “The ICU nurse said Dana was upset and left. Is she all right?”

  
Mulder rolled out of bed and walked over to the window to look out at the city and to keep his voice from waking Scully.  
  


“We’re in Philadelphia,” he explained. “She wanted to work.”

  
“And you took her,” Bill replied. The sound of his disapproval was familiar, even though lately things had been on better footing.

  
“She was going to try to work whether I took her or not,” Mulder said softly.

  
Bill let out a long breath. “I got here and they had already taken Mom’s body.”

  
“She was an organ donor,” Mulder reminded Bill. “They took her pretty quickly.”

  
“I didn’t know about the change to her living will either,” Bill told Mulder. “I saw it when I got here. I don’t know why she didn't tell us.”

  
Mulder could hear hospital noises behind him. Nurses and doctors talking and he assumed Bill was waiting around for what was left of Margaret to see it off to be cremated. That was definitely a job her children should have been doing together.

  
“It definitely was a shock to Dana,” Mulder said. He knew better than to call her Scully on the phone to Bill. It just annoyed him and this wasn’t really the time for that. Mulder let out a noise of hesitation. “Uh, look Bill, we shouldn’t be in Philadelphia more than a few days. We have a case we’re working on.”

  
“Just like old times,” Bill huffed. “Okay, well... anyway I just called Dana to tell her I called the funeral home that does cremations and they can’t take Mom until Friday. Tara and the kids fly in on Thursday. I guess we can do the service Saturday or Monday. Whatever works for your work schedules.”

  
Mulder nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll let Dana know.”  
  


There was a beat on the phone and Mulder wondered for a second if Bill had hung up.  
  


“I, uh...” Bill started. “I just wanted to say, I’m glad she has you. The nurse told me you stayed all day. You mean a lot to her so whatever is going on with you guys, I just... Uh, I’m glad you’re there for her.”  
  
Mulder’s jaw dropped. “I’m just trying to be her friend, Bill.”  
  


“She needs one,” Bill agreed. “Tell Dana to call me when she has time. I’ll be staying at Mom’s.”

“Will do.”

Mulder set Scully’s phone down next to the coffee maker, prepared them each a cup and walked over to her side of the bed. He set her coffee down on the bedside table and put a hand on her hip.

  
Scully’s eyes opened slowly. They weren’t red anymore but still a little puffy from crying herself to sleep in his arms. She looked up at him and frowned a little in that half-sexy, half-disappointed way she did when she was recalling behaviour that she didn’t approve of. Usually it was his behaviour she was frowning over.

  
“Good morning,” he greeted. “We need to be out the door in an hour.”

  
Scully put her hand softly over his and intertwined her fingers with his. “Okay.”

  
He worried if he should push her to stay home, to take the shuttle back to D.C. and he could work the rest of the case on his own. She wouldn’t listen and suggesting it might make her angry at the lack of confidence he had in her as an agent. If she said she was fine and he didn’t believe it, he still had to treat her as such. It was infuriating.

  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s all right,” he told her.

It really was. He couldn’t hold much against her anymore. After you forgive someone for leaving you, you might forgive them almost anything. She forgave him for all that their work and the quest for the truth cost them. While it might have caused her to leave eventually, technically she was still his and he was hers. Who else could they belong to but each other?

  
“I’m pretty sure we’ve both had moments when we knew that wouldn’t solve what ailed us,” he commented. “I just think you wouldn’t forgive me if we did that last night. I can’t have that.”

Scully pushed her hands into the mattress to sit herself up and she brought her mug to her lips. “It wasn’t very fair of me either way.”

  
Mulder nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Probably not.”

  
He could feel her eyes studying him and he was tempted to take her mug from her, push her into the bed and make love to her all morning. Exhaustion or not, emotional turmoil or clarity of what would be appropriate or not, he still wanted her. Sometimes being a man with a functioning sex drive that was one hundred per cent directed toward her wasn’t always the best thing. She was hurting and she needed his strength and benevolence.

  
Mulder kissed her forehead softly and got off the bed before she could react. “I better have a shower.”

  
The water rushed over is body and refreshed him for the day. He felt ready to face the Band-Aid Nose Man or whatever spooky shit came his way. He tried to wrap his mind around the case.

  
He tried to recall techniques he used before their first kiss when he wanted her but had yet to touch her. This was more difficult because she wasn’t off-limits completely. She was off-limits right now and he tried to remind himself that patience was a virtue grown adults were supposed to exercise. He waited seven years to finally kiss her. He could wait a few more days to be with her. _He could_.

  
As Mulder was dressing, she came into his room with another cup of coffee for him. Coffee sometimes said ‘I’m sorry I was an asshole’ but he was usually the one buying it. Her hair was dripping on her shoulders onto her bathrobe and she smelled like her conditioner and her raspberry-rose perfume.

  
Mulder took the mug from her and set it beside him on the desk. He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms in that reassuring way he did. They made silent apologies to one another with a look and she shook her head at her behaviour.

 

Their mouths met somewhere in the middle and it was a soft sweet kiss of penance and forgiveness. It quickly turned into one of passion and fire while their hands went to one another’s hair and a brave hand went to her backside to pull her closer. Tongues slid against one another as they deepened the kiss and Mulder could feel himself grow hard.

 

It didn't take much when you were in a half-state of constant want. Such were things for them between 1999-2000 but now he was fifteen years older. Reacting so quickly wasn't supposed to still be something that happened. God bless hormones and an active libido.

 

She moaned a little as he squeezed her backside and she clutched her fingers at the material of his shirt. He was sure she didn’t come in here for this but here they were. Again, in a hotel room, making out in the early light of day and walking slowly toward the bed.

 

Mulder broke the kiss and looked down at her. “What are we doing?”

 

“I’m not sure,” she admitted as her eyes searched his face for answers. “I just came in here with apology coffee.”

 

Mulder smiled at her. He felt almost sad at the idea that they were at such an impasse. When they were together, it worked ninety per cent of the time. So much had happened in the past that he worried they might not ever get back to where they were or evolve to where they could function as Mulder and Scully the couple versus Mulder and Scully the working partners and estranged lovers.

 

“I think we have a lot to deal with today,” she started, “and maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

This meaning falling into bed together once again and he had to agree.

“It’s really difficult when what you want and what you should do are counterintuitive,” he sighed as he pressed his forehead into hers. He removed his hand from her backside and they both frowned. “I should finish getting dressed.”  
Scully nodded and pulled his mouth down for another lingering kiss. “We’ll talk later.”

  
On the drive up to the from the forensics lab to the hardware store Mulder made the mistake of telling Scully that Bill had called. The balance and calmness she had that morning seemed to slowly dissolve.

  
He tried not to look like an FBI agent as he was browsing key options next to the spray paint as the Trash Man’s paint supplier picked out a shopping list. Luckily, he was oblivious outside of what he was doing and they were able to follow him without being spotted. Scully seemed to be shaken out of whatever started to bother her enough to take down the supplier and disarm him.

  
It was pretty impressive.

  
It was feeling solid until the kid got away with his gun Scully had confiscated from pushing by Mulder.

  
“What? I wasn’t going to shoot the kid,” Mulder defended and gave a slight readjustment of his shoulders to fix his jacket. “And I don’t do stairs anymore.”

 

“Mulder back in the day I used to do stairs and in three inch heels,” she retorted.

  
“Back in the day,” Mulder scoffed as he glanced down at the Jimmy Choo’s she was now sporting. “Scully, back in the day is now.”

  
He flicked on his flashlight in her face. She turned her flashlight on his face with a bit of flare. He gave her a look that was usually saved for innuendo she would roll her eyes at and pretend not to appreciate.

  
What they saw in the darkness and depths of that basement made no sense. To Mulder, he could only account for them being the visions of a man who knew how to project them into reality. Scully had no scientific explanation. What she saw only shocked and confused her. He could see that.

  
“What the hell?” she muttered as one of the visions disappeared down a dark hallway.

  
They made their way toward the only door that could lead to the Trash Man. The floors were wet with what Mulder hoped was just water and the air smelled of mildew and rust.

  
He knocked on the door.

  
“Federal Agents, open up! If you’re in danger we’re here to help!” Mulder called.

 

“I am in danger! Now go away!” The Trash Man called.

  
A look of disbelief and ‘yeah right’ was exchanged between them and Mulder took a step back to kick the door in. Inside looked like a workshop of horrors. Sculptures of the nightmares that lived inside the Trash Man’s head. Half paintings that had been started, half sculptures that he never finished. Probably the Band-Aid Nose Man stood against a wall with trash bags surrounding him.  
“Put the guns down! They don’t work on him! Put them away! They don’t work!” The Trash Man called.

  
Scully found him with her light.

  
“I tried,” Trash Man explained. “I tried to shoot him.”

  
“Are you the Trash Man?” Mulder asked.

  
“Turn down the light, man!” Trash Man cried. “Turn down the light! If they don’t see me and I don’t see them, they can’t hurt me.”

  
Trash Man lit a few candles at Scully’s insistence and sat in the corner of his workshop. He began to monologue about how the Band-Aid Nose Man came out of him while Mulder asked the Magic 8 Ball if there was a chance Scully would move back home.

  
“ _Cannot predict now_ ,” it read and he made a face before putting it back on the shelf.

  
He continued to look around the studio as Trash Man discussed how homeless people were mistreated in all societies. Mulder agreed but he wasn’t the man to fix that. He was trying to save the world from aliens and other global conspiracies.

  
“People treat people like trash,” Trash Man said as he pointed to Scully.  
Mulder could feel Scully spacing out from the interrogation. He could feel her thinking about other things.

  
“So what? You took care of the problem?” he asked.

  
“I did my part,” Trash Man said vaguely.

  
“By killing Joseph Cutler?” Mulder asked. “And Nancy Huff and those two art thieves?”

  
“Naw,” Trash Man denied as he stood up. “I was just trying to give those people a voice, the only way I know how. Through art! Not violence. So I could put it around town, so they wouldn’t be forgotten. A stencil that looked over the Bad Suit Building Man. Looked down on the Lawn Gnome Suburban Lady.”

  
“Why did you put up the art after the fact?” Mulder asked. “The morning of Cutler’s murder?”

  
Trash Man denied his involvement in the graffiti and described what they saw in the hall way was actually a projection of a nightmare. Yet the Band-Aid Nose Man was more than that. He claimed it was a Tulpa yet for Mulder, who knew a lot about a lot of things, he was able to rationalize it with facts about Tulku’s. What was so wrong with the internet is that you could find a lot of inaccurate information if you didn’t look hard enough.

  
“A realized Tulku would never harm anyone, let alone kill,” Mulder explained.  
Trash Man described his art as though he was giving birth to life. For an artist, which Mulder was not, he imagined it was the same as what mothers feel like. Being only a father, and a pretty lousy one at that since he couldn’t find William for all his searching, Mulder didn’t understand what Trash Man was trying to explain.

  
When Mulder came back to life as men who have been abducted can, he found out about Scully’s pregnancy and wondered if there had been someone else. He learned later that the conception was around the evening he came back from England, when Scully had a life-altering religious experience and discovered the truth about her heart. What a night that was to experience Scully as she had truly given herself over to him with fervor and lust.

  
Mulder’s mind focused back to listening to Trash Man discuss how the Band-Aid Nose Man would avenge people on the street. Mulder could feel Scully leaving the room, as her mind wandered from their interrogation.

  
“An idea is dangerous, even a small one,” Trash Man continued. “But now he uses that violent idea. He thinks that is what he is supposed to do.”

  
“You’re responsible,” Scully said suddenly. Trash Man and Mulder turned to look at her holding the necklace charm in her fingers. “If you made the problem, if it was your idea, then you’re responsible. You put it out of sight so that it wouldn’t be your problem but you’re just as bad as the people that you hate.”

 

“If what you believe is possible, the last person involved in the relocation would be Landry,” Mulder said as he connected the dots.

  
“He got the injunction lifted,” Trash Man explained. “They’re moving people out to Franklin Hospital tonight.”

  
As they did, Mulder and Scully’s eyes met and they silently agreed at what they needed to do. They needed to locate Landry to prevent anymore deaths but Mulder feared it would be too late.

  
Apparently, it was better for Landry to oversee the relocation of the homeless. Better for his image to be seen as a man involved in the community and one who cared about real problems. Such involvement would ultimately cost him his life.  
  
Trash Man instructed them to follow the smell into the depths of where the Band-Aid Nose Man would chase someone who treated people the way Landry did. They heard his screams next and they chased the sound to where the smell emanated.

“There’s one way out of this room,” Scully said as Trash Man held his hands over his face at the aftermath of what his monster did. “He just screamed seconds ago. How did we not see whoever did this leave the room?”

  
Mulder took a slight step forward to the dismembered body parts of Daryl Landry to shine a light on the Band-Aid and gooey residue that was made up of actually nothing.

 


	14. The Funeral

The weather for Monday in Washington was dark and bleak. The atmosphere was fitting for a funeral. Alongside the chilled summer air, clouds rolled in to threaten rainfall. If they were looking for a somber mood, a low-pressure system from Canada was going to help with setting that scene.

Family members of naval officers are not entitled to ceremonies involving standard honour with a military chaplain. Caskets were not draped with the United States flag, nor would there be a team to serve as honour guard or a fire a three-volley salute, but for Maggie Scully, the turn out had the same intent.

Officers in dress uniforms contrasting against the family and friends donned in all black. Monday afternoon, at one p.m. the service commenced at St. John’s Parish. One guest who was not in attendance was Father McCue. He passed on four months ago and had been supplanted by Father Jason Kelly. During Father McCue’s slow retirement, Father Kelly had grown very close to Maggie Scully and he lead a service that not only was moving but joyful and sapient.

Father Kelly discussed Maggie’s life as a woman who traveled the world with her husband and family, stationed all over the western United States, Hawaii, Japan, Italy before settling in Bethesda Maryland. She was a matriarch to the family, often times both parents to four children and a woman who held an incredible Christmas party.

Bill gave a wonderful eulogy where he named Maggie’s eight grandchildren and what shocked Mulder the most was he named William. Throughout the service, Mulder had been holding Scully’s hand and he gave it a squeeze when Bill named the grandchild not known to Maggie’s friends. He only prayed Scully wouldn’t have to shield questions because of Bill mentioning him.

Mulder spent the majority of the time next to Scully clenching his jaw and bracing himself for the awkward questions and unreal conversations. Fortunately, no one mentioned the missing grandchild. What people did ask them about was how they were doing, how much they appreciated Maggie and all she did for St John’s Parish.

Mulder met the men who signed the change to her living will while Scully discussed Tara’s plans to move back to the eastern United States in the next few years. Bill wasn’t ready to leave Germany because of the opportunities but she wasn’t happy there. What he observed among talking with several people was that marriages, whether they were like his and Scully’s or not, were complicated. Life was more than just introductions and falling in love. Their love, as broken and damaged as it had been, was on a slow repair to getting back to a normalcy they could live with. When it worked between them, it really worked but when it didn’t, it was close to being unbearable.

After the service, a wake was held at the same country club as Maggie’s last birthday. It was the same birthday Mulder showed up for with a thoughtful present and took Scully on the bathroom floor. The cap sleeve, slight v-neck and pencil skirt was much less provocative than the dress at her mother’s birthday. Then again, Mulder could see Scully in scrubs and have lewd thoughts.

Scully held Mulder’s hand when they spoke with Father Kelly. Mulder tried not to notice that she was sending him Morse code messages as he asked about their work, her involvement with the church and if she was ready to take on some of her mother’s responsibilities.

“ _S.O.S._ ” she squeezed his hand.

Mulder squeezed back “ _S.T.O.P_.”

“Dana, it’s been nice to see your face around the church,” Father Kelly continued. “Father McCue disclosed to me your illness in the past and how that had given you a renewed faith.”

“It’s been nice to attend, I agree,” Scully said as she squeezed Mulder’s hand again. “ _H.E.L.P_.”

“I hope you don’t mind that Father McCue discussed it with me,” Father Kelly mentioned as he placed a hand on her elbow and then pulled it back. “I think when he was giving me a Scully family history, he was trying to be as thorough as possible.”

Scully smiled tightly in the way that she reserved for people who told bad jokes, made poor assumptions or in general when people forced conversation about anything she wasn’t comfortable discussing. Other times she would freeze before putting on a tight smile or other times she would flat out fake laugh before squeezing all the feeling out of Mulder’s hand. When she was on her own, she had to somehow stammer through it.

“I appreciate your concern Father Kelly, but I won’t be ready to take on anything with the church for a while,” Scully deflected and pressed a thumb into Mulder’s palm.

Mulder tried not to visibly wince and pulled his hand from Scully’s to place it safely on her lower back. “Father Kelly if you could excuse us.”

Father Kelly made an attempt at not being visibly surprised at their abrupt departure but smiled politely. He held up his glass to them and made his way back to the bar where Bill was holding onto a bottle of Jameson and pouring short glasses for his brother and Bill’s three sons. Charlie’s son Conor, who was 7, was definitely not old enough to have a small glass like Matthew, Aaron and Dylan who were 19, 17 and 15 respectively. They were all delighted at their father’s insistence at a taste of what was usually off limits to them.

Scully tilted her head toward the bar and Mulder held up one finger. Scully agreed and approached the bar to pick up two glasses of Jameson watered down barely with two ice cubes each.

They made their way across the country club toward the table with Maggie’s urn and a picture display that Tara put together over the weekend. As much as they differed, it made Scully grateful she had a sister-in-law who could be thoughtful and supportive during this time. Tara had arranged everything once she landed and allowed Bill to wallow in his guilt about not being here and his anger toward Charlie for sweeping in and out of their lives.

A waiter approached them with hors d’oeuvres and Mulder loaded a small plate full of cheese, seafood salad in petit shells, and what looked like a fancy version of a lunchable. The waiter watched as Mulder carefully loaded a second plate for Scully and set it in front of her. There was an awkward moment until Mulder asked him to come back with two waters for them.

Mulder and Scully had a brief stand off of whether or not she would eat until her stomach growled and Mulder apparently won. She popped a strawberry into her mouth and Mulder put one of his fancy crackers onto her plate.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

He could tell her mind wasn’t on her mother. She was watching Charlie take another shot of Jameson and slap Bill on the back. Whatever was bothering Bill yesterday of their estranged brother wasn’t minding him anything today. Perhaps it was their way of patching things up but Mulder could see more to it than that. If they were mending fences, he hoped it stuck for all of them. Being the lone child when everyone was gone was more frustrating when you saw people with families purposely estrange themselves.

“I’m thinking back to Charlie and when he and Mom stopped talking,” Scully mentioned and Mulder put one of the fancy lunchables in his mouth. It was a buttery cheese cracker with brie and smoked turkey and he was grateful it wasn’t a liver pate. “It was such a silly thing for them to fight over.”

Mulder thought back to his memory banks if Scully mentioned the story. “I’m having trouble remembering why.”

Scully sighed and took a sip from her glass of amber liquid. Mulder did the same. The whiskey burned down his throat and set his stomach on fire. He ate two more fancy lunchables to prevent an upset stomach.

“It was before my cancer,” Scully mentioned. “Dad was gone, Melissa was gone and Charlie wasn’t able to come in for Christmas. Bill made a snide comment about him arranging his schedule and I guess Mom was supposed to stand up for Charlie. But she was tired. We all were tired. We lost a lot the last few years and Mom wasn’t into breaking up another fight between them.”

“They’re really different,” Mulder noted.

“And yet, so similar,” Scully said and Mulder nodded. “It just gave him reasons to spend Christmases with Lucy’s family. She was an only child and her parents only had one sibling each.”

“Not like the loud Scully clan, Irish and dirty,” Mulder commented and rubbed a hand reassuringly across her back. They shared a brief smile.

They sat for several minutes of quiet, listening to the music and voices around them. Most of the guests were happy but there were a few teary friends. Scully’s Aunt Olive who would probably out-live the immortal Dana Scully who blew her nose on a handkerchief and shook her head at the sons of Maggie Scully who emptied the bottle of Jameson. Tara and Lucy would have a lot to deal with later.

Scully sighed and looked into Mulder’s eyes. “I wanted to spread some of Mom’s ashes at the bay.”

Mulder nodded and agreed with that affirmation that he would join her. Of course he would. There wasn’t anywhere else he was going to be that day or any other day she might possibly need him. He wasn’t sure what to say but he was feeling the draw to her and to be there for her.

“When?” he asked.

“Now, I think,” she said and pushed on his knee to stand. She looked around the country club and to the table where Maggie’s urn sat unguarded. “I’ll tell Bill we’re taking her out there.”

Mulder stood up. “Where is the rest of her going to be?”

She shook her head. “I’ll take her... Maybe I could put her in the living room of the house?”

He watched her face for a sign. If Scully wasn’t planning to live at the house with him then there would be another ghost hanging around that property and Mulder didn’t know if he could handle that.

“Or not,” she continued. “I want to get out of here though.”

Mulder agreed that a break from the bleak and joyful hall would be a good idea. He left to get their coats from the cloak room and returned to find Scully loitering around the the memorial table.

“We can’t be out all afternoon,” Mulder mentioned as she picked up the urn and tucked it under her jacket.

“Are you worried my brother’s will beat you up for taking me away?” she teased and Mulder nodded. Scully shook her head and tucked her free hand into his. “Come on.”

 

***

 

Mulder had never thought about being a father before he considered Scully as a mother. Not seriously. There had been one hundred opportunities as a young man to contemplate the notion, however it was never about his own children. He thought of them as a far off notion that would eventually happen to other people. Even when his mother introduced him to nice girls on his breaks from Oxford, he didn’t look at them and project forward to the potential offspring and legacy he could make with them. It just wasn’t something he desired when his example had been less than stellar. If your parents hire everyone else to take care of you as often as possible and yet they are available for long lunch dates, mornings with the tennis instructor and early cocktails with friends from the club, you start to realize you were a forethought of propriety but an inconvenience nevertheless.

He didn’t want a small child to watch him leave yet again and the child wonder if there was some error he or she had made or if parents were supposed to only ask about your day as they placed meatloaf someone else prepared for you on the table as they drank their fourth cocktail.

Despite all of his upbringing and determination toward never having children and the notion that kids would only continue a family tragedy unfold, Mulder eventually thought about having them. It became less of a pipe dream when a small medical doctor and scientist walked into his office and shut down theories of space travel. Obviously he didn’t contemplate them having children as she said in her know-it-all-tone “beyond the realm of science.” That would be perverse and weird.

Mulder had his kinks but he hadn’t imagined that part of their relationship back then. He had to see her half naked in his hotel room, feel the touch of her hands on him in a doctoring way and shake his gun at the aliens. He desired her in that way but tried to keep her at arms length.

It happened slowly and then all at once, just like the way he fell in love with her. They sat on a bench in Home Pennsylvania discussing the horrors of a child that survived nature’s selection and still able to be birthed before it was recklessly killed.

He made a joke about her finding a man with a spotless genetic-make up and a really high tolerance for being second guessed and start pumping out the little uber-Scully’s. And suddenly, as she was smiling at his joke as he rubbed her back, he could picture her round and pregnant and full with child. It struck him as odd that he felt as the child would naturally be his. Maybe because she asked about his family history and there really wasn’t much to complain about except the last thirty years.

He wondered if she thought about what their kids might look like then or if the notion of having children was still something she merely flirted with because she hadn’t yet discovered a mass on her sinus wall, a cancer that could kill her. Did she have fleeting thoughts of them as parents back then, upon being cured and discovering why she hadn’t ovulated in six months? She told him later she felt embarrassed she hadn’t figured it out sooner, being a doctor.

She had told Mulder in a quiet moment at her apartment. She hadn’t showed up for work that Tuesday after her doctor’s appointment and he worried that her cancer had relapsed and the deal with the devil he almost made was for nothing. That miracle chip had failed them as all of Mulder’s good intentions. She was in her bathrobe and little else and he deduced she had been taking a long soak in the tub.

“Scully?” he asked as he looked around her apartment. “Are you all right?”

She had nodded and opened her door to allow him to come in. “I’m fine. Come in. I’ll get dressed. Where are we going?”

Her voice was so defeated, as if she knew he would want to whisk her away on a case and not ask about her at all. It hurt his feelings a little bit but he remembered he wasn’t there for himself, he was there for her.

“No,” he caught her arm and pulled her back toward him in the area behind her couch. “What’s going on?”

Scully ducked her chin down in an attempt to hide her face. It worked well with their height difference and he lifted her chin with a crooked finger. She pulled away and slowly glanced up to look at him.

“Is it...” Mulder didn’t know how to say the cancer without putting that idea out into the universe. “What happened?”

“I went to the doctor,” she said and Mulder’s heart stopped beating. “I wanted to find out...”

“Scully?” he prompted when her voice trailed off. He prayed to every deity possible it wasn’t cancer returning. He couldn’t take that.

“No, um...” Scully ran her tongue her top lip in that way she did when she was nervous. “I had my follow up today with my OB.”

Mulder nodded. He remembered wondering if Scully had discovered she was unexpectedly pregnant and the guy wasn’t there to step up. He went through a list of things he could say including, ‘we’ll get married and raise the baby together, as partners.’

Scully crossed her arms in front of her. “I want to get dressed. Hold on.”

Mulder nodded and watched her pad off toward her bedroom. He shed his shoes and jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. For some reason, he wanted to be as comfortable as possible when she told him whatever it was she needed to discuss.

She came out in a V-neck knit sweater and black pants. Her hair was curly from the humidity of her bathtub and Mulder thought she looked soft and pliant, like someone he wanted to curl up and drink hot cocoa with instead of chase aliens and fight government conspiracies. She really was a beautiful woman.

Scully had put a kettle on and made them Earl Grey tea with milk and a dollop of honey. They sat on the couch and she told him what she had learned. Tests were done, results came in and she was barren. Of course Mulder knew that, but hearing her say the words affected him more than he realized. Mugs of tea went cold as he reached across the couch and she allowed herself to break down in his arms.

He didn’t talk then, on her couch on that cool October morning, about what he knew about the potential eggs that could be viable. The discovery that Scully’s potential offspring were out there but unable to to grow inside her and suckle at her breast in their early morning hours together had already been made, but her telling him now felt like a let down all over again. He wasn’t her lover at the time, so he had no claim over those babies except that he did. To top it all off, he felt like an asshole for not saying anything. He just kept telling himself that he needed to protect her from one more injustice he brought onto her life.

Twenty three years later, he was still trying to protect her from what she wasn’t ready to face. It took exactly thirty one minutes to drive from the Wilton and Greene Country Club to their private inlet of Chesapeake Bay where they planned to spread some of Margaret Scully’s ashes. It was quiet and solemn but not in the least uncomfortable.

Mulder held Scully’s hand as they approached the waterfront. Why she chose to wear three inch heels to a pebbly beach he didn’t understand but the basic side of his brain appreciated the way it made her legs look.

Scully set the urn down on the beach and twisted it into the sand. Mulder handed her the small spoon he pilfered from the country club and scooped out a small amount of ashes from the urn. Scully took a few hesitant steps and shook the spoon into the air. Maggie’s ashes dispersed from her daughter’s hand and out into the water.

Mulder walked up next to her and put an arm around her shoulder as they watched the remains of Margaret Elizabeth Scully disappear.

Scully’s phone buzzed in her pocket as a text from Tara came through. “Do you have Mom?”

Scully texted back, “I took her for a drive with Mulder. We’ll be back at the club soon.”

“Thank God, we thought Charlie took her to her house. He’s not answering his phone again.” Tara texted with a frownie face emoji. Another text came through quickly. “Nevermind, he’s in the bathroom.”

Scully looked back out at the open water. “My family is a bit of a mess.”

Mulder frowned. He wasn’t really one to talk about messes and families. Especially with the state theirs was in. He and Scully were a family, even if it was just the two of them, but they seemed to be in disarray due to the fact that the third member of their family was living with someone else, calling someone else “Dad” and looking to someone else as an example of a man.

She sighed. “I need to sit down.”

Mulder watched as she picked up the urn and dusted off the sand from the bottom. He held her hand as they made their way over to the log, a log they had sat on many times. They came to the cove when the lake on their property felt too close to escape to and they needed to take a drive past the ice cream shop with two p’s and ended with an e.

He didn’t feel angry with Scully for the choice she made because she left him with none. He felt guilty about what they did just as much as she did. He couldn’t deny her when she asked him to help her conceive because if there was a chance he could give her one good thing after all the bad things, then he had to try. They’d waited for miracles but failed to live up to deserving them.

The weight of guilt he and Scully carried about William could fill a ten tonne truck.

“I know why Mom asked for Charlie, even though he was out of her life,” Scully began and Mulder braced himself.

She was about to pour her heart out and he needed to really listen. He needed to be present and stop thinking about himself right now.

“She wanted to know before she left that he’d be okay. She gave birth to him. She made him. He’s her responsibility,” she continued. “And that’s why she said what she said to us. She wanted to make sure that we’d be responsible to know that William’s okay. Even though we can’t see him.”

Mulder’s mind drifted to the last search he did for William and how he found the last name Van De Kamp connected to Scully’s private adoption records. It’s amazing what’s kept when nothing is supposed to be public. When you have nothing but time on your hands and resources online, finding someone who was never meant to be found can become the pet project you focus your time on when you’re not worrying about the end of the world.

“I know that as parents, we made a difficult sacrifice to keep him safe,” she continued. “That it was for his own good to put him up for adoption. But I can’t help but think of him, Fox. I can’t help it.”

Mulder didn’t even wince at the use of his first name because she had accustomed to using it when she really meant to connect to him. He was reminded of times he heard it on her lips. At their wedding as they exchanged vows or in bed as he used his mouth to perform a talented trick he discovered just with her. It felt worse when she said it, when she cried about the failures she felt as a doctor or a mother.

“I believe that you will find all of your answers,” she said. “You will find the answers to the biggest mysteries, and I will be there when you do.”

Mulder wanted to respond to that. He looked at her face as she almost broke completely. What she was saying said more than her whispers she missed him as he pumped in and out of her or when she showed up to the house and stayed a week as they tried to put themselves back together. He was so tired of failing her but not tired enough to stop trying.

“But my mysteries,” she continued on the verge of tears. “I’ll never have answered. I won’t know if he thinks of me, too or if he’s ever been afraid and wished that I was there.”

Mulder clenched his jaw. Of course William would think of her. You can’t forget Dana Scully as a woman you’ve met once in your life or as the mother you only got to know for the nine months you grew in her belly or the nine months she tried to hold onto you in a world that was too dangerous.

“Does he doubt himself because we left him? What questions does he have of me? The same that I have with this quarter?” Scully asked but the questions weren’t really to Mulder. It was out to a God who had answers but kept them close to his breast like a secret treasure. “And I want to believe.... I need to believe, that we didn’t treat him like trash.”

Mulder put one arm around her and she slowly let him pull her to his chest. Could anyone believe Scully would be so reckless as the people who treated the homeless as garbage? Could anyone think that she would give up the child she had pined for, protected in the body that was raped of all its ova and created regardless? She stretched, she grew, she ate and she worried. She did all the things a mother was supposed to do during her pregnancy and Mulder knew this because he found a diary she kept while he was “gone.” It was heartwrenching to read it but even more awful to know she had kept it all those years they ran from the FBI, tucked in the bottom of a duffle bag with a picture of her parents and sister on Scully’s graduation day from medical school.

Once he was born, miraculously without complications and on a rusty bed in a backwater town that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, she did everything she could to keep him safe. In desperation, she searched for answers on boats that could blow up to try to find information about William. Was he the product of a union or a miracle baby from an experiement done to her when she was passed out with CGB Spender at a house she should have never traveled to? Mulder knew deep down, there was no miracle cure his ‘father’ supplied her with. He put that baby in her belly and then promptly got himself abducted by aliens.

He couldn’t change what had happened to Samantha, that she was taken as some kind of bargaining chip or that it broke up his home. Before he really fell in love with Scully, he was trying to continually right that wrong, to find every Samantha he could and save them. Until he needed to be saved. Until he had his own rebirth like Lazarus and began to walk among the living. But what did he come back to? A family he was never meant to have and a career that was in disarray. He woke up and then ran away because she asked him to.

So while he was gone from her and William and he was searching for answers in New Mexico, she fought a man in her own home. She recieved physical injury before she realized protecting William in her home might kill them both. What’s even worse is that she had to put him up for adoption and then explain to everyone who cared about him why he had to be tucked away.

That’s what she originally thought about the adoption. She was veiling him to keep him secret and safe to a family who didn’t know anything about aliens, conspiracies of the government and the only black oil they worried about was the kind that was pumped out of the ground. William had a chance with other people to be the kind of kid who didn’t have to look over his shoulder for faceless aliens or worry about impossible things like magnetite. The conflict of giving up a child kept him up countless nights yet it renewed his passion to make the world a better place for his absent son.

Maybe that’s what parenthood felt like. Mulder couldn’t imagine anything else. Rocket ships blowing off from a backyard launch pad, movies about aliens or God in a monolith and something better for them to grow up in outside with faster technology and more social media platforms.

Scully, no one will ever think you treated him like garbage,” Mulder managed finally as she cried.

“I think he might,” she sobbed.

“When we find him we’ll explain it to him,” Mulder assured her. “We’ll make sure he knows why.”

She took a handkerchief from her pocket that had her mother’s initials sewn into the edge and wiped at her nose. “How are we supposed to find him?”

He pressed his lips into her hair and turned his face to lay his cheek where he had kissed.

“Well, we _do_ have the internet and an FBI database at our disposal. I don’t even care if it’s a gross misuse of our resources. We’ll find him. We’ll make sure he’s okay. We can tell him why we did what we did.”

Scully huffed and clutched tighter to him as if she could feel his idea radiating off of him and growing into her.

“At the very least, we will look,” he said. “Dana, we’ll find your answers. William is one of my questions too. We can get to him and protect him from whatever is coming.”

“What do you think is happening, Mulder?” Scully asked as she stared out at the open water.

“Something wicked this way comes,” he warned.

She turned her face up to his and kissed his mouth. He was surprised but not unwilling. It didn’t feel wrong to be kissing her, to appreciating her mouth on his or holding her body to his. He wasn’t sure why it felt different but it was.

They kissed like two people who didn’t care if anyone walked up and saw them. Scully’s hand went into Mulder’s hair and his hand slipped down to cup her hip and pull her towards him. He wanted her since the last time he finished inside her. Her tongue tasted like the fruit plate he brought her and the whiskey she knocked back before she asked him to drive her here.

She felt like home and he hated feeling homesick.

Scully pushed on his chest and the kiss broke. She picked up the urn and stood on shaky legs. “We should go.”

The woman sent more mixed signals than an enigma machine and he was a man working with an abacus and the Latin alphabet. Sometimes he felt like he had her figured out. Other times he felt surprised by the smallest thing like her changing from skim milk to full fat because she liked the taste and reasoned that the calcium was good for fighting osteoporosis. Really, what it was, that she ate such a low fat diet and her cholesterol was so low, her GP advised she put fat into her diet. Scully acquiesced with Greek yogurt in the morning and half and half for her coffee.

He helped her to her SUV and she opened the back seat to tuck Maggie into the small bin that was seat-belted for transport. As she closed the door on the car Mulder placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and pulled him to her.

He held her in the parking lot to the beach access and they swayed slightly in the comforting way Mulder did. Hands rubbed up and down her back, his hips moved in little swaying motions that was supposed to be reassuring and he pressed his lips to her hair. She wasn’t sobbing or pawing at him in desperation. She was holding onto him because he was the only thing she had left.

Her hand slowly went up to his head and she pulled his mouth down for a kiss. He gave her a few quick pecks to signal he was there but he resisted opening his mouth. She ran her tongue along his top lip and she nipped with her teeth on the plumpness of his lower lip. He opened his mouth and dipped his head lower to allow her to kiss him fully. With her tongue sliding against his and her hands in his hair. It was the way she used to kiss him when their relationship was new and she was trying to make up for seven years of not kissing him. He kissed her that way too. She told him once as he kissed his way down her body that she felt like he was making up for lost time and he stared at her in all her nakedness and told her he was.

F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote he fell in love with his wife’s courage, sincerity and flaming self-respect which Scully had in spades. But what struck him was that he wrote his wife was the only God he had left. He looked at Scully with her eyes closed and felt her body pressed against his and the growing want he had for her and knew this to be true.

Mulder pressed her against the side of the SUV, not worrying about minor dirt mites scratching the paint or making Scully’s pristine jacket anything less. He tasted her mouth and pushed his body into hers, trying to be absorbed into it as quickly as possible.

 _God, she felt good_. She felt like everything he craved to make him feel better and yet it wasn’t enough. He wanted to bury himself inside her and never leave. If he could just stay there, the world couldn’t get at them. Nothing bad ever happened when he was fucking her, just good things. She lit up with pleasure and he felt like he was finally doing something good. It ached more than he could describe with a pang of misery that fueled his lust. If he could just make her happy, he could be good again. The other stuff like the aliens, the conspiracy against humanity and finding William would fall into place because he had her by his side.

She really was a kind of religion you could devote yourself to. She felt warm and hot and tight around him. He felt cold and loose when she wasn’t there. It was ridiculous to think of her as a thing he needed because she was a person of her own but she was the balm to his ailments and the poultice of a remedy. What a joke.

When she came into his life, she was a spy and a bad one at that. She was all science, no nonsense who laughed at his bad jokes and wrinkled her nose at his awful ties. How could they not know that he would want her to see his side of everything? While she showed him her science and saved him with facts, he showed her Big Blue and mysteries beyond the realms of which she based every fact she put faith it.

Scully slipped her hand between them. It slithered into his pocket and pulled his aching member up towards the waist of his pants through the material of his slacks. Mulder’s jaw went slack before he realized she wasn’t kissing him anymore. She was nipping at the skin along his jawline and making sounds he only heard in the privacy of their home or a country club bathroom.

“What do you want me to do, Scully?” Mulder asked.

Scully drew her finger around the head of his cock through his pants and then glanced to the back of the car. “Can you sit up?”

She pointed to the back of the SUV where she intended him to fold his body into.

His face studied hers. This wasn’t exactly the ideal place to have a post-funeral union but they weren’t exactly hearts and flowers, chocolates and diamonds people. Her ring sat in a drawer and he pushed himself inside of her on the porch of their house when the sun shone and the wind breezed through on a hot summer day. They made love in the lake on their property or on a long walk through tall grass. Scully was game for him because he made her feel all the wanton things she made him feel.

Mulder opened the passenger side of the SUV and pointed to the seat. “We’re thirty minutes from home.”

“As long as you get me ice cream afterwards,” Scully compromised.


	15. Wham Bam Thank You Ma'am

When they used to drive home from grocery shopping or the post office together after a day of errands, Mulder used to vow immediately afterwards he needed to take a two-day respite at home. He liked certain people, he rooted for humanity but the public was exhausting to handle. Even in the small town near their house he could find something to get annoyed at.

Scully teased him once that being less patient with others was a sign of senility. He had laughed, but wondered how far off she was. Luckily, he wasn’t quite fifty when she made the comment but a man who believed in aliens over God was probably on his way there.

There were certain elements of Mulder’s personality that Scully mentioned to him before that bordered on unhealthy recluse. He told her simply that he had already found the best person in all of humanity so everyone else pretty much paled in comparison. It was a sickeningly sweet moment between them but Mulder tucked that memory away with those he wouldn’t change because she blushed at the compliment.

With the known intent of what they would hopefully continue back at the house, Mulder refrained from his usual onslaught of monologue about how horrible other drivers were. He turned on his “Scully2” playlist and they appreciated some songs that held inside jokes as well as an upbeat tempo.

Mulder pulled into the driveway of their ordinary house and parked her SUV where his car normally sat. His car was still at Scully’s apartment because since Maggie’s passing, she hadn’t asked to be alone yet. She hadn’t turned to Mulder since they had arrived back at her apartment, picked up Daggoo from the dog-sitter and said “actually Mulder I’d really like to be alone.”

Instead, when they returned to Washington she put her hand on Mulder’s arm and asked him to call out for supper. Just like that. _Take care of me and come up. Drink a bottle of rose with me and hold me while I cry. I’ll get the coffee ready and you can take out the trash._

It was so domestic and routine, staying in Washington, eating breakfast while they read the paper and spending the entire day with her family as a normal extension of the Scully clan. He called her Dana all weekend. He helped with whatever Tara and Bill asked of him, including picking up family members from the airport and taking Scully out to the country club the night before to inspect that the hall had been set up satisfactorily.

He checked his watch to see the time. Only gone for an hour and if they made it back to Maggie’s in the next one, Mulder could chalk it up as something routine for them. They took a drive, he let her get some air and they picked up something frivolous for everyone like beer or food.

“Stop calculating what you’re going to tell my brothers about where we’ve been,” Scully said in that way she read his mind or his expressions to know how he was feeling.

He did that to her too but sometimes he found it to be annoying. She probably felt the same way.

Mulder shut the car off and nodded toward the house. He was relieved they had left Daggoo with the dog sitter she hired for her Philadelphia trip. As they got up the stairs, he pulled her towards him and kissed her with over a week’s worth of frustration. She moaned as he slid his hands to her backside and squeezed.

The mood she was insinuating she wanted was more rough than tender but he would try to make it that too. Not overly rushed but still heated and frantic. She pushed his jacket and suit coat to the floor outside the door and hers soon followed. Before they could disrobe completely on the porch, Mulder unlocked the front door and pulled her inside.  
  
He ran his hand down the seam of her zipper and found the delicate slider. She stood still as he pulled the zipper down and she stepped out of her modest dress to reveal a black lace set that almost dropped Mulder to his knees. Fifty-two-year-old women weren’t supposed to look like Dana Scully with her curves and sleek lines. Things were supposed to shift and sag eventually and Mulder expected to love her as she changed. It almost seemed surreal how little she had changed and how her body was just becoming better as they got older.

A few years ago, Scully argued with him that she wasn’t as defined as she had been in her thirties as she sat astride him in their bedroom. Dressed in only her panties and a T-shirt she had an uncharacteristic moment of self-deprecation and Mulder rolled his eyes at her declaration. She put his hands on her thighs and ran his palms up her stomach to her breasts. “See, Mulder?” It only resulted in Mulder growing hard beneath her and shedding her of her clothing to do a further investigation.

Standing in her undergarments now in the living room of their house, it almost felt unfair. Mulder felt his age most days. He was fifty five and saw the grey hair and wrinkles around his eyes. He tried to stay in shape and prevent the usual sagging of places he saw on his father growing up but nature seemed to skip over Scully. She looked the same, a little older in some ways, but still just as beautiful.

He shed his tie, shoes, and worked on the buttons of his shirt next. Scully reached for his belt and her tongue peeked out between her lips as she slid the loop through the buckle and parted his pants. Her deft fingers slid inside and ran her hand up his shaft.

Mulder kissed her again and walked her toward the couch as he stepped out of his pants. They worked on his shirt until he was just in his briefs and looking at her with a crooked smile.

He turned them around and sat down to pull her into his lap. He could see her contemplating to take off her shoes or not and to his delight, as she wiggled out of her undies, she left the black shoes on. Every fantasy he had dreamed of them on this couch paled in comparison to the reality of making love to her like this. The pointy heels and flushed cheeks didn’t surpass the feat of being able to touch her in the middle of the living room in broad daylight, although they didn’t hurt.

Mulder reached between them and pulled his hardened cock up and in line with her centre. She looked down between them with a mouth that looked wet and lax for him.

Their mouths met again and he kissed her softly. Slowly his hand descended to trace the swollen flesh of her sex. He slipped two fingers past the trimmed hair on her folds and felt the satiny moisture of her desire for him.

“Scully,” he breathed at her readiness for him.

It wasn’t always this way. There were times when she wanted to and he was ready but he had to start with a dry well. There were times when he had to push his way into her and she had to urge him to keep going while her body took time to catch up. That was life. That was marriage or the way things went in relationships. It wasn’t always rock hard erections ready for a wet pussy and the reality of their not so great times made every good one even better. Not so good ones were rare but they happened.

Usually they were lucky enough to knock it out of the park and see fireworks while achieving a mutually-timed orgasm of never before seen proportions. Sometimes it hurt or it didn’t work. And they had to make the decision to try again and keep going because that’s what real relationships did.

After a particularly blunderous roll in the hay, Mulder would look over at Scully with sorry eyes and ask for a second chance. Not that he was to blame, but he always felt better when she was left panting and satiated. He knew she wanted the same for him. That’s how they kept working. They had few bad times in bed but when it happened, they tried again. Or laughed about their goofs sheepishly.

Tonight was not one of those potential gaffs. Things were fluid and easy without feeling like it wasn’t them. The little room was heavy with the history of knowing one another and the excitement of being together after both of them desired a reunion. Mulder ran one thick finger from her centre to her clit and she gasped. He circled his finger around the bundle of nerves as she gripped his hair tighter.

“Good?” he asked as he nuzzled at the roundness of her breast and tongued her nipple through her bra.

“So good,” she breathed.

Mulder kissed at her collarbones as he undid the clasp at the back of her bra. He was in a multitasking mode of touching her just where she needed him to and building her desire. She hovered above him on the couch and her eyes looked up to the sky where she was either praying to God or hoping he wasn’t watching.

As he slid the lace garment off her arms, she sat back on his lap with his cock between them. She pulled one hand out of the loop and took him in her hand. Precum had oozed from the tip of his shaft. They both watched in fascination as she swiped her thumb across the tip.

Mulder brought his fingers that were slick with her excitement to his mouth and licked at the juices there. She held his wrist and licked at them also. It was always a way for her to up the ante between them, to taste herself on his lips, his cock or his fingers. It drove him crazy to see this reserved, button-down woman be wild and feral. After sixteen years together, he was certain there would never be anything between them that bordered on pedestrian or common.

She scooted her bottom closer to Mulder and rubbed herself on his cock. He was now aching to be inside her. Scully maneuvered herself up and he positioned himself at her entrance. Slowly and assuredly, she sunk down on the generous length of him that genetics provided to Mulder. It wasn’t that he was just long but she always needed a moment to accommodate the thickness of him inside of her.

Mulder watched her face as it went from one of slight discomfort to pure pleasure. He loved watching her. It was better than any of those video tapes he had because he was the one doing it to her. Or better yet, sometimes it was her doing it to herself. The woman had a knack for making him want to close his eyes in pleasure while never wanting to miss a thing. Such a dilemma for a man who needed the visual overload of her.

His eyes closed in a moment of rapture and she kissed his mouth as he felt her walls slightly relax.

“Look at me,” Scully whispered as the kiss ended.

He slowly opened his eyes and he shook his head. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She kissed the edges of his mouth as he threaded his fingers through her hairline at the base of her neck. He pulled on her hair a little, just slightly to gain some control, and tugged her head back to kiss along her collar bone. If this was going to be what they were thinking about for the rest of the day while they were surrounded by Scully’s family and friends, he was going to ensure every moment be one they would feel for hours afterwards. He flexed his hips in the cushions of the couch and pressed up into her.

“Ah!” she cried as she felt the bulbous head of his cock push against her cervix.

Mulder relaxed his hips and did it again. She made another guttural noise and he nipped at the skin on her chest where he was assured the neckline of her dress would cover.

“No marks,” she whispered, yet did nothing to move away from him.

He caught her skin between his teeth again and left more of an impression. Her delicate skin kept every record of his mouth and even in their fifties, a trace of their encounters could be found on their bodies from time to time. That was the cost of a passionate relationship.

Scully pushed on his shoulders and moved up his shaft before settling herself back down. The grip on her hips loosened a bit and he pressed the meat of his thumbs into the bones on her waist.

“Scully,” he sighed.

She moved herself in an undulating motion. It was slow and purposeful to the point of madness. It was bliss and exultation. He watched her face as the emotions began to build inside of her. Her walls began to squeeze him more forcefully. Her hips tilted as her jaw relaxed and Mulder wondered if her elusive Grafenberg spot had been hit. Mulder searched for that as much as he had searched for the truth about aliens but Scully was more forthcoming when it came to results. Right there or not even close, partner.

“ _Oh_!” she gasped and he pushed into her again on her down stroke. Her eyes went wide and he was sure that was it. “ _Oh_!”

“Did we get it?” he panted as he helped her move up and down.

“Oh God, yes,” she sighed.

She dug her fingernails into the skin of his trapezius muscle as her orgasm began to approach. Mulder continued to push up as she stroked down. She repeated the action several times and he watched her ride him. He moved one hand to her breast and pinched at her nipple. Her movements were becoming more erratic and she cried out as she stilled suddenly. Her walls clenched down and she was coming. She milked his cock with her sex and he willed his body not to finish.

Ever the gentleman, Mulder waited for her orgasm to wash over her before he moved. Scully collapsed on top of him and her forehead rested on his shoulder as she regained energy.

“Oh,” she sighed.

“Good?” he asked.

“Better than.”

As he kissed her fully, he turned them around to lay her underneath him. With one foot on the floor and his other pushing at the armrest of the couch, he pumped in and out of her. Scully picked up her leg that was dangling to the floor and looped it around his waist. Mulder pulled it under his arm for a deeper penetration and she cried out again.

“Make yourself come again,” he urged.

If she second guessed every theory of paranormal activity he had, she never doubted him when it came to their sex life. She trusted his instincts and usually he was right on the money. When it came to their work, that could be mildly frustrating. However when it came to her body, it was very rewarding.

Scully brought her first and middle finger to her mouth and wet them before reaching between their bodies. She put her moistened fingers to her clit and she moaned as she worked toward a second climax. An orgasm would be quicker to find her and if she worked herself at the same time as him, it would feel more powerful because it happened together.

The juices of her sex began to coat her fingers and Scully moaned louder this time. Her finger moved quicker between them and he could feel her inner lips starting to swell.

The tingling sensation of his own orgasm was starting to take over and his balls began to ache with an impending shot. It was like a canon ball waiting to blast out of him and he prayed she would come soon.

“Oh! God, Mulder! Oh, _fuck_ me!” she cried out as she arched her back and her body went taught underneath him.

Mulder pumped erratically into her as he felt her squeeze every ounce of his orgasm into her. He watched her become undone. She was released from every uncertainty of the past week and the pain of what she had lost. He was giving this much to her for all he had caused to be taken away. Not much of a sacrifice when he thought of what he got in return.

He closed his eyes and pushed into her once last time. His body shuddered as he slowly came down from the acquittal of his own euphoria.

He made a noise between a grunt and a sigh. Scully rubbed her hands up and down his back where he could feel the sting of scratches from her fingernails.

“You got me,” he said as he felt himself shrinking inside of her. Not by much but a little. He would stay swollen and half hard for a while.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Mulder pulled out of her and she maneuvered herself to the bathroom to clean herself up. Mulder followed behind her with their undergarments as she was flushing the toilet.

“I would love to hide you away here for the rest of the day but we need to get over to your mom’s house,” Mulder mentioned as he cleaned himself off.

“Then you’d better get ice cream for everyone,” Scully told him as she pulled up her panties over her bottom. She put her hands on her hips and looked at him as though she was telling him to finish filing his reports for Skinner.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mulder chided with a smile. “You know how that gets to me. I’m an old man now and it hurts when my body tries to go again too soon.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she denied but he could see a smile playing on her lips.

They had told one another too many secrets about what they liked and what they didn’t. She knew that no-nonsense look got to him as much as it did when she licked her top lip as she concentrated over a file. It didn’t make her do it any more or less and often times she claimed she forgot the affect it had on him. Just like he didn’t put a hand on her lower back to hint anything more than chivalry, even if he knew it gave her a little thrill.

Mulder told her once, “Sometimes when you give up your secrets to another person, you lose more than just the mystery but the control you have over autonomic actions.”

Mulder retrieved their coats from the porch, dusted them off and kissed Scully properly before he escorted her to the car. She felt the care for her with such small actions and he knew that. He tried to convey that now with their living situation in a disarray. He had gotten better with those small gestures over the years.

It wasn’t natural for him to be thoughtful in ways that a typical relationship might consider but over the years he had grown to be the man who put out the trash before he was prompted to do it or set the coffee maker for the next morning. Mulder’s absent-minded professor routine was adorable sometimes. Other times not so much.

Eventually he learned leaving his socks on the floor where the hamper used to be could be annoying. He learned that claiming ignorance to doing laundry would only get him so far when Scully had upgraded their washer and dryer to new machines with electric dial display and steam press options. He might leave his bowl on the counter from breakfast for a few hours but she knew he wasn’t going to leave it there past lunch. There were certain elements of him that had grown and matured but deep down, he was still the same man. The man she swore up and down she fell in love with and whatever was coming, she promised to stay with him. Except he wasn’t sure where they stood now. There was too much space in between their time together and it felt one sided on his part sometimes.

Which is why he couldn’t keep asking her to stay anymore. He needed to preserve what little dignity he had left or at the very least just stop for a while. She had to make the decision. When they finally went to bed together, she made that call after he had tried kissing her on a few occasions and finally landed one on New Year's at midnight of 2000. They went on a few dates as much as dates could go for two people who had seen the actual worst of one another. She lead them at a snails pace toward everything and while he felt frustrated to leave it up to her, he just couldn’t push anymore.

Mulder thought about this as they drove the twenty five minutes to The Dairy Godmother. They preferred Sara’s Ice Cream Shoppe however that was in the opposite direction from Maggie’s house. Sometimes he didn’t realize how many couple-like things they had until he remembered they had a preference for places that served ice cream and frozen yogurt, a favourite Thai place and a mutually decided best pizza place. They bought a certain brand of coffee because they both liked it or went for a certain brand of bread over another. It was all banalities of being domestic and Mulder didn't realize how much he appreciated it until she left. 

He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel and changed the radio station twice until he found a station that might play enough talk radio Scully wouldn’t want to talk.

If she talked, then he would tell her he was thinking about William. He would tell her he couldn’t keep asking her to come home and he was tired of pretending they were a couple when he honestly didn’t know anymore. He felt like her husband about seventy per cent of the time but they weren’t living at a shared address. When she would shut him out, when she left him, he was always the one to chase after her. Was it his penance for her always running after him all those years they were down in the basement of the J Edgar Hoover building? He felt like the man she used to like and still loved a bit but couldn’t look at him for all the awful things they had said to one another.

Resentment didn’t sit well with him. He never wanted to resent Scully or anything they did. He just didn’t know what to do. He wanted her back but what else was there?

Scully put her hand on his arm and prompted him to order. “Mulder?”

“Sorry,” he shook his head. “One pint of Rocky Road, one pint of Cookies and Cream, one pint of Double Fudge Chocolate Wham Bam Thank You Ma’am and two pints of Vanilla.”

Scully handed over her credit card to the young cashier and Mulder waited down the line for their ice cream to be bagged for them. The nice thing about going to The Dairy Godmother was they packed the ice cream in reusable freezer bags.

As they made their way to the Maggie Scully residence that was full of her children and siblings, Scully made no attempt at small talk. She could probably feel Mulder thinking and knew when he needed to talk, he would.

Mulder parked on the street in front of Maggie’s house but didn’t shut the car off. He could feel what he needed to say bubbling up inside of him and he needed to get it out before he broke down in front of Scully’s family. They might feel it was touching to see Maggie’s son-in-law weeping over the matriarch, however it would have been the wrong thing. He felt for Maggie being gone. He loved her as much as much as he loved his own mother and in different ways but he wasn’t feeling that emptiness of her passing. He had the weekend with Scully to prepare for that.

Aaron, Matthew and Dylan were throwing a baseball around on Maggie’s front yard while Charlie and Bill sat on the front stairs watching them. The house was noisy with family and some friends inside.

Bill Scully’s middle child came running toward the car and knocked on the window. He panted as Scully pushed the down button. “Auntie D, Dad said you better have ice cream.”

“Right behind me,” Scully told him and Aaron moved to get the ice cream from the floor of the back of the car.

“Is that Nanny?” Aaron asked as he pointed at the box and urn.

“Of course that’s Nanny, you dope,” Matthew said nudging Aaron’s shoulder. He unbuckled the belt and picked up the urn carefully. “Go ahead of me, I don’t want you to make me spill Nan all over her front lawn and explain to Dad what happened to her.”

Aaron shook his head, his strawberry blonde tresses fell in his eyes and he used his free hand to push them back off his forehead. “Fiiiiine.”

“Mom tell you we thought Uncle Charlie kidnapped Nanny?” Matthew asked with a chuckle. “ _Estranged Son Kidnaps Mother’s Urn from Washington Memorial_.”

“We’ll be right in, Matthew,” Scully said gently.

Matthew looked between Mulder and Scully and nodded. His eyes narrowed on the Uncle he liked but never really grew close to. “Sure thing.”

The back passenger door closed and Scully turned to Mulder in her seat. “I’m listening.”

“I was thinking... Uh, I know what I said on the log but I think whatever happens with us Scully, we still need to find William,” Mulder stated and looked over to her. She nodded. “I need to tell him things too. I need to tell him he wasn’t an afterthought.”

“What do you mean?” she asked as her brow furrowed.

“My dad... He always had this way of making us feel like we were an afterthought or a side consequence to having a legacy,” he explained. “I don't want him to feel like an afterthought. Like some unforeseen consequence. When I said yes to helping you and you got pregnant, I just know I felt like I wanted our baby to never doubt that. I wanted William to feel wanted. Whatever happened in his life. And I know the parents that raised him wanted him in their lives but I need to tell him I did too.”

Scully took the tissues out of her jacket pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

“I have to tell him we both wanted him so much. That we made him even though science said we couldn’t,” he replied. “I need him to know that I had plans for him. Not the kind of ominous crap my dad had for us as insurance policies but actual plans. Rocket ship building in a backyard and teaching him about JFK and real American heroes. I was really going to be there.”

Scully sniffled in her seat.

“I hesitated to say yes because I just didn’t know if I could sacrifice whatever stupid quest I thought was so important for a kid. But I would have for him and for you,” Mulder continued. “I would have handed in my gun and badge to work a job that maybe was slightly boring if it meant keeping him safe. And I can’t believe I never even got a chance to offer that. I can’t believe I died and came back to life but I never got to make a grand gesture for you because of all the shitty things I’ve done to show you how much you mean to me, that could have been a really good one. For both of you.”

Scully sniffled and Mulder looked over to see her crying again. He reached across the seat to her.

“William would have liked your mom,” Mulder said as traced his thumb on the back of her hand.

“They seemed to like one another...” Scully stopped herself. “Well, um, before.”

“When I was a kid my grandmother used to sneak me sweets,” he mused. “I think your mom was a softy like that.”

“Growing up, my mother had to rule with a strong hand,” Scully recalled. “There were four of us and my dad was gone more than not.”

“Grandmas are softies for smart kids with sweet faces,” he told her.

Scully frowned a little. “Maybe.”

“Your grandmother had to sneak you sweets or something,” he insisted. “I saw your baby pictures. You were adorable.”

He didn’t add that she still was but he felt that was true.

Scully sighed as he dragged a finger up her thigh toward her hip. “My grandfather used to slip me candy or money.”

Mulder smiled. “I knew it.”

“I just... I wanted to, to, to say that today felt like old times,” she stammered. “It feels like before.”

“Not entirely,” Mulder replied as he pulled his hand away. “We’re not totally back.”

Scully nodded. “Right.”

“I can't keep pressuring you into something you're obviously not certain about. I'm not saying this to upset you. I just need to tell you that the ball is in your court, Scully,” he told her and exited the car.

She knew she had to choose finally. She knew he wasn’t going to ask her to come home and she shouldn’t expect him to keep making the request. At the very least, she owed him the decision.


	16. Babel

  
The apartment where she resided in Georgetown had everything close by. A grocer for when she needed eggs, fresh produce or milk was just around the corner. It was an easy commute to get to the J. Edgar Hoover building and the running routes in the area were ideal. The only thing not close to Scully was Mulder.

The ordinary house they purchased in 2006 was not much for amenities, however it had the quiet solitude that Mulder told her he wanted when they were in Home, Pennsylvania. It was twenty minutes to a small town that tried to have modern conveniences such as places that offered delivery for take out and a casino game at the local gas station. It was quiet there at night. They could see the stars and Mulder’s cell service was always at full bars.

Who needed the city?

He would tell her from time to time the only thing missing from the house was her but it wasn’t meant to break her heart or hurt her feelings. He meant it just as an expression of how he felt and she appreciated that after all this time, they were still honest with one another.

After her mother’s wake, she had gone through the motions of being away from him. Showing up to work with a brave face while she plugged away in the office with him from 8-5. They took lunches together and visited some places they used to go “back in the day” but it felt different to revisit a place when so much had happened with the person who made it special.

Since Mulder’s declaration that he was no longer chasing her to come home, there was a wedge between them. It wasn’t like before, when they were apart for a year but she still considered them something. The wedge right now felt bigger than when she had decided to leave their home. He had stayed true to his word and she missed him.

What a blow to her gut that had been but she wasn’t ready to run home either. They had spent a few weeks going through the motions of their stalemate wondering if or how they could fix things. Without a resolution, they retreated to their homes in frustrated silence.

Unfortunately for Scully, she had yet to feel like home was the Georgetown apartment. She decorated it, purchased things she liked for the space but in all the years she slept there, it felt like a hotel suite filled with family mementos. A picture of her and her siblings sat on the fire place. A painting she liked hung in the living room. A cleaning lady came by once a week to do the necessities and Scully paid her by cheque. The marriage license, pictures of Mulder as a child or elements of him weren’t there. They were at the house she no longer listed as her main address.

The last two weeks without him forced her to deal with her mother’s passing. He was there when she called at ten p.m. to discuss her feelings of loss but he wouldn’t come over, even if she asked him to. Yet, she couldn’t do that. He said he needed her to choose him. It shouldn’t be so hard to do, however she felt as though asking him to come home was a big step. She needed more time to prepare for whatever their future together held. As the weeks went by, she wondered if they had missed their second chance just like their first one had been hiccuped by fate, a bee, an ex lover and stubborn personalities.

What Mulder probably assumed was that she had decided against them all together. By now Scully only hoped he knew her well enough to know that she rarely jumped without looking, even when it came to them. Especially when it came to them. After all they’d been through, getting back into a functioning relationship could very well damage them as much as it healed.

When she arrived to work, Mulder was characteristically exuberant about the sound of trumpets being heard by a group of strangers. Scully was hesitant to jump into the case but she admired that he wasn’t at home, refusing to leave the house and dressed in the same flannel pajama pants for the past four days. She didn’t like to think of Mulder in those dark times.

“What am I hearing, Mulder?” she asked.

She was standing off centre to the television with her arms folded in front of her. It was the best position to watch the television and make remarks to where he sat at the desk. His desk since she still didn’t have one in that office and her name wasn’t on the door.

“According to eyewitnesses or earwitnesses as it were, it sounded like trumpets playing,” Mulder monologued through the video.

She knew he got off on this kind of back and forth. He loved to present information to her, let her deduce what she could and then tell him the version of events that was reported. It was a game they had played for the last twenty years. She never grew tired of it.

“From nowhere in particular?” she asked as he came around the desk to stand behind her.

“No apparent source,” he reported as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

He was slightly casual Agent Mulder at the moment. His jacket was off and his sleeves had been rolled up as though shedding part of his FBI persona would able to help him delve into the paranormal. What Scully recognized was that he was still adjusting to the suit and tie Monday to Friday routine.

“Music, as if from the heavens themselves, as God himself was making music,” Mulder stated and she turned to face him. “Blowing his own horn.”

Nice pun Mulder.

“Since when do you believe in God, Mulder?” she retorted.

The man wouldn’t allow a mention of the man upstairs in their wedding vows and here he was presenting a case about eyewitnesses experiencing something spiritual.

“What makes you think I do?” he asked.

“God himself?” she repeated with a shrug of her shoulders.

It was cold down there today and the man was giving off body heat. She linked it to the fact that he ate protein five times a day. The man started keeping almonds in his desk, he ate full fat yogurt and had baggies of chicken strips in a lunch cooler. The fifty five year old Mulder took better care of himself through diet and exercise out of necessity. She appreciated that change in him, however that change also came after she left. He wasn’t a man who could afford to forget to eat when no one brought him bowls of chili or a sandwich in the middle of the day. After she left, if he didn’t make it, he didn’t eat. No one was going out of their way to feed him or care for him. No one was going to remind him that he needed more than three hours of sleep. She knew she was the regulator to Mulder’s odd habits and tendancies. He told her she made him better but she forgot all the simple ways that was true.

As she watched him explain this case, she could see the bags under his eyes but decided they were probably due to age and not staying up all night. She wanted to touch his face and ask him how he was sleeping. She wanted to crawl into the bed they shared with him wrapped around her and never leave. Admittedly, she did want those things but jumping back into that scared her now as much as it did before the millennium. She knew how all encompassing a relationship with Mulder could be. She couldn’t even lament over scars. The wounds of her departure were still healing. She worried for her loss of self then and she worried for the stranglehold of conspiracies to take over their lives. The man never let anything go.

What Scully wasn’t anticipating when Agents Miller and Einstein arrived in their office was to face themselves twenty years ago. Miller was slightly less out there than Mulder when she met him, more of a man’s man and ex military. Einstein had less humour and patience than Scully had in her early days. Instead of nefarious reasons, Miller and Einstein were probably partnered based on basic assignment criteria. But she could sense a chemistry and comaradarie between the young agents that Scully felt with Mulder right away. It was a bond that endured through difficult times, sometimes in spite of themselves.

Twenty three years ago, she was willing to play silly car games with Mulder to get to know him better. She wondered if Miller and Einstein had tried that or took the communications seminars Skinner had signed them up for since they were partnered together.

“He seemed like a bright young man,” Mulder noted after they were alone.

“She calls him Miller,” Scully responded as she looked over the business card Miller had left with them.

“His first name is Kyd, do you blame her?” Mulder retorted.

“Maybe Kyd is to Miller’s family lineage as Fox is to the Mulder family tree,” Scully retorted.

Before marrying William Tanner Mulder, Teena’s family name was Fox. The unfortunate instance of not having any brothers meant that eldest sister Teena was promised to name a child Fox in her future. The old-money ways of New England left a few of Mulder’s childhood friends named Bradford, Winslow, Brewster, Cooper and Turner. They were a generation of young men at private schools who’s full names were meant to be on bank, law firm or medical letterheads. Scully was aware that growing up with the first name Fox on Martha’s Vineyard didn’t single him out by any means.

“I don’t think Kyd is an old English clan,” Mulder replied. He was referring to his given name which was an English surname that dated back to the 1300s.

Scully walked over to the laptop and typed in her search. “It says here it’s an Anglo-Scottish surname.”

Mulder made a face that resembled Daggoo when he was disappointed the treat ball was empty. “Well.”

She caught herself laughing and he couldn’t help it. He laughed too. It was those moments of comfort and ease that hurt her more than the moments when they clashed. Passion through contrary opinions she could understand and respect. When they got along, when they felt like they were who they used to be or when he touched her, she immediately longed for more.

“What are you expecting to do about your trumpet earwitnesses, Mulder?” she asked.

“I think we’ll discover that these individuals did see something,” he reported. “Worth looking into.”

Scully frowned a little but it wasn’t the same half-frown pout she did earlier. This was disapproving and uninterested in the case. “Why?”

“Scully, God himself could be speaking to these people and we have evidence!” Mulder pointed to the television. “Aren’t you the least bit interested?”

She sighed. “If you can get it approved by Skinner, I’ll be happy to look into this with you. I have an errand to run this afternoon.”

Mulder nodded and didn’t protest as his mind seemed to drift toward other options for himself. “Some other engagement?”

“I need to check on something-”

“At home?” he interrupted.

It was subtle but she caught the look in his eyes. It was snide and upset. If he had been detached, she would worry he was trying to move on from her. She couldn’t take that. Yet he was making a snide remark that ultimately hurt her feelings but reassured her she still cared.

“No,” she hesitated.

“Lunch date with handsome republican charmers who like champagne?” he continued.

Her jaw set and she tilted her head back in a defiant gesture that she usually threw at Skinner or Kersh. “I’ll see you later.”

“Just let me know if you’re not coming back this time,” he snapped.

What she wasn’t telling Mulder was how much it hurt her to not be with him. It hurt to need him so much when he wasn’t ready for her to come home. It pained to hear him ask when she had spent time there. She knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to her that he decided his quest was bigger than them either. Had anything changed? Maybe her bitterness toward his actions over the last few years wasn’t quelled. Maybe he allowed himself to become so far gone because she didn’t believe it and he always said if he could make her believe then it would be enough.

The world didn’t end time and time again. If it was, it wouldn’t be right for her to come home just because they might not have tomorrow. It was a waste to stay away out of ornery intent to be right.

Falling into bed with him repeatedly wasn’t the healthiest of options either. It hurt her to be away from him but she didn’t know how to function completely on her own. He had worked his way into her life so completely that by the first year of their partnership when they were separated, she called him up to hear his voice, she asked to meet him to see his face and she smiled at him to see a semblance of the man who teased her with innuendo and bad jokes.

When she returned to see him or when she invited him to the city, she could feel herself slipping back into the wrong kind of pattern. What else can you do if you only remember how one person tastes, feels and smells? He was still her best friend. Legally they were still married. They were confidants. They were supposed to be there for one another when no one else was. She felt her desperation for him like a fish struggling without water. She floundered. She felt anxious and she faltered without him.

Scully found herself sitting on her bed and fidgeting with Agent Miller’s card. She wanted to touch base with the young agent and discuss their options to move forward with the case he and Einstein presented earlier. Her hand hesitated to dial his number.

What she really wanted was to work with Mulder but she worried if she asked him, he would accuse her of exactly what she was doing. She was reaching with everything she knew. It was leaping from a basis of faith and science to make a connection to something else.

If her idea worked, she would harbour the guilt of not trying it with her mother. If it was successful, it would be another thing she beat herself up over later. One more burden to carry around when she already felt constant guilt and loss over leaving her marriage or not pushing Mulder to - what? What did she need him to do? She didn’t want him to be any different than who he was but why couldn’t he just accept that whatever was coming wasn’t coming?

Yet his certainty in the matter made her falter to wondering if he was right. He was so certain they were in danger and now she had every reason to think so too. If they attacked, he wasn’t going to fight them off holed up in their house, waiting for a grey man to knock at the door and announce their takeover. He had to be on the front lines fighting it with her.

Before that happened, she needed some of her own questions answered. By the time she called Miller, she had already booked her flight to Texas and was packing for three days in the south. She placed a call to the dog sitter and arranged to be back for the weekend.

***

Dallas Fort Worth International Airport is the third busiest airport in the world by aircraft movements. It boasts being the ninth busiest airport in the world by passenger traffic. As Scully fought her way through domestic baggage claims, she understood why.

When she finally made it to the top of the stairs, Agent Miller ran to meet her more than half way. Symbolic almost.

“I got here as fast as I could,” she greeted as she made her way down the steps.

“I gotta say I’m blown away you came down here to help me at all,” he said as he took her bag.

She didn’t mind the chivalry. She sensed it came from a place of duty and honour over the flirtation that Mulder usually put into such gestures.

“Well, I sensed your frustration,” she admitted. She was attempting to push past the parallels she felt to Mulder.

“I just want to believe there’s some way of reaching this young man and learning what he might know,” Miller explained.

She could understand that. “Well, I believe there may be but not the way you might think.”

“What way is that, Agent Scully?” He called her that like a Corporal might address a Master Sergeant.

“Not through an oracle, a psychic or a seer but through science,” she explained.

“I don’t know how you mean,” he confessed as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Business men and cowboys in gallon hats swirled around them. She worried this conversation would be overheard by the wrong people or misinterpreted. Then again, she had much more odd conversations with Mulder in more public places than airports.

“This might sound heavy but this is a personal quest for me,” she admitted. “My mother was in a coma recently and I wasn’t able to communicate with her.”

Miller licked his lips as he nodded in understanding. “I take it she’s passed.”

“I wish I had the presence of mind to think of this when she was still alive,” Scully replied. Conceding points of her personal life let down a wall that she normally kept up around anyone besides Mulder. The recent passing of Maggie still burned deeply. “I might have solved a mystery that I may never know.”

“I understand. I hope we can at least solve this one,” Miller replied.

Agent Miller was kind enough to book Scully a room at the Comfort Suites on the same floor as his and Einstein’s. The government agency rate certain hotels began offering meant traveling FBI agents were able to stay at nicer places. Hotels with elevators, daily housekeeping, mini fridges and king sized beds versus crappy motels with threadbare carpeting and moldy smells.

What Scully explained to Miller as they stood at the hospital bedside was that research and science was on their side. Not psychics or seers. They had facts and tests proven to help them. Electroactivity inside patients suffering from brain damage were trapped with thoughts they couldn’t communicate while held together with machinery pumping air into their lungs.

Once she was able to get Mulder to admit that he believed death was another plane of existence. It didn’t take into account God or another religious idol whereas Scully believed that God would be there to shock Mulder when the pearly gates opened to him at his passing. In all their arguments and discussions of what was waiting for them in the afterlife, she respected in the least that he had some form of idea his existence would carry on. Mulder, however, doubted her faith in a book. If he only understood how much that faith had carried her through almost every tribulation they had faced.

“I’m open to whatever,” Miller said enthusiastically.

“I’m certain that you are, Agent Miller,” she said.

“I believe so many answers lie beyond the pale of the known world in realms of extreme possibility,” he said in almost a whisper.

It took her back to the young man standing in a basement office with fluffy hair who would ask her to identify an organic substance based on a chemical compound drawn out in its line-angle formula.

“I believe that you believe,” she said with a smile.

What she was able to describe for Patient 23 and the findings of Adrian Owen, she was then able to convince Miller quite easily that they could talk with the patient before them with the usage of an MRI or an electro-encephalogram.

What they were not expecting was the Department of Homeland Security trying to thwart their plans with retribution and bullying tactics. They should have anticipated no less.

As they waited for the equipment to become available and Miller took a break to get them food, Scully received a rather surprising call from his partner, Agent Einstein.

“Scully?” she answered.

“What are you doing in Texas, Agent Scully?” Einstein asked.

“Agent Einstein, how are you?” Scully looked out the windows of the hospital room but saw only staff and the men guarding the door.

“I’m more than perplexed what you’re doing with my partner on my case,” Einstein remarked.

Scully sighed. The cattiness wasn’t going to be killed with kindness but she needed to try. “I had an idea that I wanted to work with you and Agent Miller on. Are you free to join us?”

“I’ve discovered another method of communication that was presented to me by another out there individual,” Einstein explained.

Scully understood immediately that she was referring to Mulder. “Whatever you do, he’s susceptible to-”

The line went dead and Scully looked down at her phone in disbelief.

“Bad news from DC?” Miller greeted with coffee and tray of food from the cafeteria.

“I think you need to call your partner,” Scully advised him as she tucked her phone away.

“Agent Einstein and I have been working together for over a year and she’s never been particularly fond of splitting up while working on the same assignment,” Miller remarked. He handed Scully a salad from the tray. “I just hope she doesn’t do something foolish.”

“What would she do?” Scully asked. “You mean to make a fool out of herself?”

“Maybe not her. Maybe someone else,” Miller replied thoughtfully. “She’s kind of uptight but you need to know she’s a good agent. And when she trusts you, she’s really not as uptight as she comes off. I think this whole case has her wound up.”

“There’s pressure on all of us to stop any further deaths,” Scully noted and nodded towards the hospital bed. “Including his.”

Miller nodded. Retribution and revenge were powerful motivators whether you held a badge or a bomb. To Scully, taking a life went against every instinct inside of her as a doctor and a human being. The actions of men motivated by grief or the need for power seemed to be without that instinct to protect human life.

The electro-encephalogram arrived just in time for Agent Brem to order them to clear the building under terror threat.

What angered Scully was to listen to ignorant people discuss Muslims as terrorist extremists while they happily ignored the actions of others like the KKK who killed in the name of Christianity. Murder for religious beliefs on U.S. soil was not at the invention of 9/11 however it seemed to be an issue people all but forgot.

It only took two hours for them to clear the hospital from the terror threat before they were back inside and connecting the electrodes to the young man’s head.

“Can you hear my voice?” Scully asked. “We don’t even know his name.”

“Can you hear me, young man?” Miller asked in Arabic. He turned to Scully. “I was with the Bureau in Iraq.”

“Keep talking, Agent Miller,” Scully encouraged as she noted the change on the screen.

“Can you hear my voice?” Miller asked. He noted the change on the screen also. “The needles are moving.”

“It could be a false positive,” Scully sighed. “Aberrant neurological activity, not a response in and of itself.”

“How do we know the difference?” he asked anxiously.

“Well, we need to set up a baseline,” she explained. “Set up questions that serve as yes-no answers. It will be painstaking and difficult.”

“I’m just certain he hears us,” Miller stated.

It took an hour to set up the baseline questions to determine what was yes and no. They had made progress yet found no answers to where the cell was hiding.

To her surprise, Skinner stopped in while Miller was making notes. He was on his way to see Mulder, who was two floors up in recovery from a Niacin overload.

“Sir,” she greeted as she walked toward the door.

“Agent Scully do you know where Agent Mulder is?” Skinner asked with his hands on his hips.

“I haven’t been checking my phone,” Scully replied honestly. “We’re trying to decipher-”

“He’s here in the hospital,” Skinner interrupted and her heart clenched. “He’s fine by the way. I’m surprised you didn’t know all this.”

Scully pulled out her phone and saw three missed calls from Agent Einstein and ten from Mulder. Four voice mails and thirty two text messages. Of course. “What happened?”

“He asked Agent Einstein to get him magic mushrooms,” Skinner explained and before she could ask what he explained the situation. “Mulder thought he could ride the waves of a psychadelic trip to talking with this young man. Agent Einstein gave him a placebo tablet.”

As per usual, Scully did have a line of defence for Mulder to prevent any and all repremand from going too far. She was his defender even now. Especially now.

“Niacin pills are known to actually cause an effect similar to hallucinegens,” Scully explained. “Niacin is a precursor to several neurotransmiters in the brain which can have an impact on mood. Mulder has a sensitivity to Niacin and most placebo medications.”

“What?” Skinner was obviously confused. “Agent Einstein assured me the Niacin was harmless.”

“She should have checked before administering _anything_ like that. He’s highly susceptible to the power of suggestion when he’s studying something,” Scully explained. “I’ve read Mulder’s medical file and I _am_ his doctor. It’s highly irresponsible to supply someone with something as “harmless” as Niacin. Sir, Agent Einstein should have known better. Mulder too, but she really should have checked with me first. I’m his partner and-”

“Wife?” Skinner interrupted.

Scully knew he wasn’t annoyed he wasn’t invited to the wedding and he almost seemed relieved when he found out they had eloped. Mulder had mused to her one night over a hard lemonade that for Skinner there might have been some disappointment, misplaced jealousy and concern on his part. Maybe he never expected them to fall in love or maybe he assumed they had been sleeping together after their first case. His curiosity wasn’t unfounded.

Over the last twenty three years, he tried to be an ally. For the most part he had been. In 2008 as they searched to find Mulder among the snow and foggy clues, Skinner told her what he had seen from the outside. There was a long list of occurences where he watched her chase after Mulder. She told Skinner then she did all of this out of loyalty and friendship. He told her it was more than that, even in the beginning and she just took a long time to realize it.

It angered her when he belittled her friendship to Mulder as a school-girl crush because she did feel a strong friendship. Their partnership had confusing moments in the beginning but they were pushed to boundaries other partnerships never had to face. He should know since he read every case report they submitted.

Now, as they stood in the hospital, she tried to reason with Skinner to prevent any loss of employment or harsh reprimand. Not that the latter would matter to Mulder too much.

“What's going to happen?” she asked.

“You’re both being ordered back to D.C.,” Skinner explained. “I expect you back by tomorrow afternoon.”

Scully nodded. “Yes sir.”

His phone rang and Skinner looked at the caller ID. “I need to take this.”

A nurse directed Skinner to the hallway and Scully took the opportunity to find Mulder in the hospital. She left Miller to complete the baseline questions while she checked on him.

Two floors away, Scully found Mulder sleeping in a recovery bed among three other patients. Non-critical patients didn’t require private rooms and since Mulder was essentially getting fluids and sleeping it off, she didn’t bother to ask for him to be moved to a private room.

“He’s fading in and out of sleep, but he’s fine,” the nurse explained as Scully read over his chart.

Scully handed Mulder’s chart back to the young man. “Who brought him in?”

“Paramedics found him outside a bar after he scared a few seniors,” he explained. “Apparently looking for someone named Scully.”

She berated herself for blushing. “Oh.”

“He might wake up if you talk to him,” the nurse instructed.

“Mulder?” Scully whispered.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” she assured him.

“I called you ten times,” Mulder told her as he reached out to touch her hip. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad at you,” she assured him. “I just wanted to forewarn you Skinner was on his way up here.”

Mulder laid his head down as his hand slipped to her backside. “You’re a good wife.”

Scully jumped at the contact to her backside but did nothing to remove his hand. “Mulder you should get some rest before Skinner gets in here. Not play grab ass.”

“I love you,” he said and quickly added, “Don’t say oh brother.”

“I love you too.”


	17. Amends

After another lengthy conversation with A.D. Skinner, Scully had ensured that there would be some reprimand for Agent Einstein for going outside her jurisdiction and behaving recklessly as a doctor. She might not face more than a letter in her file but if Scully could gauge Agent Einstein as an individual, the letter in her file might as well be a public censure.

Mulder had gone into silent mode to lick his wounds as he was discharged from the hospital. He had been ordered to go back to the hotel to wait for her where she would escort him back on Skinner’s orders. He was apologetic and remorseful, as much as he could be. He was still certain there were answers in what he saw in his vision and while he wasn’t the type to give up yet he wasn’t left with many other choices than to obey direct orders.

Even though Scully wanted to discuss with him further what his next move was in regards to the case, she was left with little options due to the close proximity to Agent Miller. So far their efforts to create a baseline had been successful but the young man wasn’t willing to communicate with them beyond a few movements on the screen. Their efforts had left them with feelings of futility and frustration.

When Mulder arrived back at the hospital room with the young man’s mother, it was poignant and difficult to witness. They learned his name was Shiraz and Noora had been trying to gain access to the hospital for a few hours but had been turned away.

Shiraz’s mother longed for him to tell them anything that could be of use for her son to repent for his actions and they watched as his heart stopped trying. Noora had to endure every mother’s worst fear, every nightmare Scully had since finding Emily and losing William, that she would outlive her child. Scully felt taken back to the hospital room in San Diego where she held onto Emily as she took her last breaths. Noora was reacting as she should. This would be a loss she would feel for the rest of her life.

For the limited amount of time she had with her children, Scully felt them lacking in her life every day. It was a wonder she didn’t break down at times. It wasn’t surprising when she did. The edge of heartache she teetered upon felt better by Mulder’s presence, his touch, his body as it invaded hers. She had nothing of him in her life except the man she spent time with during office hours, who wished her good night at five o’clock and watched her leave from behind a familiar desk.

Against every instinct inside of her, Scully did nothing to help Shiraz. She signed an agreement when they arrived not to medically intervene. She wasn’t licensed to practice in the state of Texas and Shiraz’s doctors were only allowing her to use the electro-encephalogram because it was non-invasive. Agent Einstein ran to get help but by the time the doctor’s arrived, it was too late to help Shiraz. He was gone.

“This is exactly how I saw it,” Mulder said as Noora cried over Shiraz.

“Agent Mulder,” Einstein interrupted. “ _Please_.”

“He spoke to me,” he insisted.

“What do you mean he spoke to you?” Scully asked as they followed Mulder out of the room.

“Spoke to you when, Agent Mulder?” Miller asked.

“With the help of Agent Einstein,” Mulder began.

“ _Ugh_ , Agent Mulder,” Einstein interjected. “Please stop.”

To listen to Agent Einstein’s reluctance took Scully back to her early days in the X-Files and reminded her not to go with her science but Mulder’s gut. Agent Einstein’s reluctance to find answers beyond field reports and a petrie dish were not the reasons Scully believed in Mulder’s theory. It didn’t hurt. Twenty-three years of his leaps made beyond scientific reasoning had taught that if he had a theory, it was worth persuing.

“Mulder,” Scully started as they gathered in the hallway. “When could he have possibly spoken to you?”

“I can explain,” he said and closed his eyes. “Or I can’t explain. He spoke to me. In Arabic.”  
  
“In Arabic?” Scully repeated. She was trying not to sound too harsh about this theory because in all reality, she should know such a leap would find the truth.

“In words I didn’t understand, yeah,” he admitted.

“What words, Agent Mulder?” Miller asked.

Mulder was jumping to conclusions about his vision and how it would lead them to the cell. She watched him struggle to find the words and connect the meaning in his mind but she had to believe in him. It was foolish not to.

“ _Funduq_ ,” he said suddenly. “ _Bail al funduq_.”

“Babylon the hotel?” Miller translated.

Of course, his leap to finding them was right. They located the terrorist cell in a roadside motel by the same name in time to prevent any further deaths, including the men preparing to blow themselves up in the name of a cause no one understood.

This was the part of Mulder and Scully that people didn’t understand. Where her scientific mind wanted to see how A to B to C could connect together, he was jumping in feet first just because. He drew conclusions through what he saw and others didn’t. It made her crazy in more ways than one. Crazy in the ways that drew her to him like no one else. It sounded overly poetic and full of flowery sentiment when she thought in those terms. Yet that was it at the basic core of everything around them.

Mulder wasn’t like other people she had met in her lifetime. He was charming and stubborn but dedicated and sweet. He was attentive when he focused on just her and nothing else so much it was overwhelming. Sometimes her orderly mind that liked things in boxes with labels for everything craved to be distressed and upset by him. Her heart yearned for the disorder Mulder brought into her life. She wanted him to come in and turn the tables, subvert her walls of guarded emotions and make her feel alive again. He did that for her.

A thought suddenly struck her. What did she do for him? She needed to take the steps to mend the bridges she possibly burned by leaving.

Scully found Agent Einstein by the vending machines lost in thought as a task force was being arranged to take over the Babylon Hotel investigation.

“May I speak with you?” Scully started.

“I’m trying to decide between a chocolate covered granola bar or corn chips,” Einstein explained. “Your distraction would help my subconscious make a decision.”

Scully folded her arms across her front. “You and I need to have a serious discussion about medical ethics.”

“Skinner already chewed me a new asshole,” Einstein snapped. “If you’ll pardon the expression. But I don’t need-”

“I think you do need,” Scully interrupted. “I think you need to give yourself a check and remind yourself that as a doctor the first line of the Hippocratic oath is to _first_ do no harm. All you had to do was check with Mulder’s physician.”

“ _You_?” Einstein said with incredulity. “I can’t even begin to imagine what advice you might give me as his physician and _wife_. The ethical boundaries you’ve crossed there-”

“How did you know that?” Scully interrupted.

“I read his medical file before I signed him out from his Niacin trip,” Einstein admitted. “He didn’t mention it.”

He being Mulder.

“I was his partner and his physician long before I was his wife,” Scully explained. “I know his medical history. I know his susceptibility to placebo and specifically Niacin. You should have done your due dilligence. Period.”

Agent Einstein straightened her shoulders. “Anything else?”

“Sorry if I gave you a new asshole,” Scully muttered. “And the chocolate granola won’t satisfy the salt cravings so you should go with that.”

When Scully turned the corner she found Mulder standing there with a look of smugness across his face.

“Are you proud of yourself for cracking the case, Mulder?” she asked as she continued walking.

Mulder put his arm over her shoulder. “I like having you in my corner.”

A pink hue crept up her cheeks. “You heard that?”

“I did. I think half the hospital did,” he teased. “Don’t worry. I still think you’re refined even if you did just give someone a new asshole.”

Scully cleared her throat. “I appreciate that.”

“I still thought you were refined after I did other things to you on bathroom floors and on office desks, so I might be biased,” he murmured.

Scully nearly tripped on her feet and Mulder moved his arm around her waist.

“You okay?” he asked and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

“Our flight back to D.C. isn’t until tomorrow morning,” Scully replied.

“Want to hit up a country bar?” Mulder offered and she shook her head. “How about I buy you a nice Texas steak? Partners dine together in their off hours, don’t they?”

“Partners,” Scully repeated. “Sure, partners can do that.”

  
***

They returned to D.C. with orders to take the rest of the week off. They had solved a case and Skinner gave them two days off without pay. A minor compromise for investigating without permission and Mulder making a fool of himself in Dallas.

When Scully left her house, she had a small bag packed and important papers she had drawn up with a lawyer the day before. Part of her felt anxiety welling up inside of her while the other felt possible relief. Maybe after all this it would be over. The doubt, the uncertainty and the frustrations she had felt once before, too. It was reminiscent of when she left.

She decided she couldn’t live in a darkness that consumed them both and her heart was too tattered to continue living in a shrowd of conspiracies and lies. She spent seven years working in that and she wanted her home to at least be a safe space.

It didn’t take much to bring her back to standing at the edge of the living room as Mulder stood among piles of newspapers, in his pajamas from the night before, with a scruffy face and bags under his eyes. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and he had yet to do more than drink coffee and search online for what wasn’t coming.

“Fox...” she started. She almost cried it. The name caught in her throat and she wiped away a tear.

“No!” He yelled. “You don’t get to call me that as you leave too!”

“I don’t know what else to do,” she struggled as her chin wavered and another tear fell. “I don’t know what to do, Fox. I can’t stay here anymore.”

She had said that to him before, when she wanted to leave because there was too much happening with a case. She said that to him because she saw him become alive when he looked into the darkness and that scared her. Before she left this time, he seemed like he was slowly killing himself over the same thing.

“Then hide at the hospital with everyone else as the world comes crashing down around us,” he snapped. “You’ll know I’m right Scully! We we’re all being enslaved and I can finally say I told you so!”

“Do you hear yourself?” she asked. “These aliens and the conspiracy of lies has a stranglehold on our very existence! You’ve gone beyond the verge of anything that resembles common and clear thought. December 2012 was a bust. The world didn’t end!”

“Why can’t you fucking believe me?” he shouted back at her and ran his hands down his face. “I’ve been having this argument with you for twenty years and you still don’t believe me, Scully! I’m always right. Don’t you think that gets exhausting?”

“Mulder, you need to stop,” she pleaded again. “You can’t believe this-”

“I do believe this,” he interrupted. “I believe in this claptrap of paranoia and lies that we’ve been fed. I know better than to stick my head in the ground and live my life in ingorant bliss. I know it’s coming, Scully!”

She shook her head. The argument was useless and she was tired of it. If he was right then maybe living in ignorance until the world did end was better off. She had no more fight in her for them or the world. Too much had broken her down and caused her to question her faith. But it had to end sometime and losing faith in the love that kept you going was as good a time as any.

“Movers are coming on Saturday to pick up some of my things.”

Mulder looked at her and it registered on his face the weight of what she was doing. A bag of her clothing sat at her feet and her belongings were in the car. “Fine. Go. You’ve had one foot out the door since 1998 and you’ve finally given yourself permission to move the other one.”

“Mulder-”

“You think you’re the only person who’s lost everything?” he snapped.

“I lost a lot more than you did,” she snapped and regretted the outburst.

“You can’t play that card every time you want me to feel like an asshole. I already do,” he growled at her. This was a throwback to other fights they had survived over the years. His guilt over her barren state and the chance at motherhood she sacrificed to be with him. “At least admit to yourself that I’m right!”

“I can come by to supervise if you can’t be here,” she offered as she ignored his verbal lashing. She had gotten used to the snide remarks as much as he had gotten used to her hiding within herself.

Mulder sat down heavily on the couch. He gave up on them too but he wasn’t ready to admit it. “Sure, fine, whatever.”

She crossed the living room and he looked up at her. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

That day of her departure, Mulder looked at her with tired eyes and something else. Maybe it was the knowledge she couldn’t leave him permanently. Maybe it was his confidence that she wouldn’t be able to file for divorce or an annulment and therefore her life would still be on pause.

On that sunny afternoon with a bag on the passenger seat and Daggoo in the back of the SUV, she tried to calm her nerves. Scully approached the house down the long driveway, parked and let Daggoo out of the back. Mulder waved from his old chair but didn’t get up to greet htem. They made their way up the steps towards him and Daggoo found a spot in the sun to relax in. The pup always did like laying in the sun on that porch.

She noticed Mulder had his headphones wrapped around his iPod and she wondered if he knew that when he changed his playlists, it updated on hers also. He had been listening to love songs all morning.

This was a porch they had many conversations on, arguments and once or twice made love on. More than twice, when Mulder was counting, which he promised Scully he wouldn’t. A man doesn’t forget those things.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Along with being lectured by Skinner for his embarrassing behaviour, Mulder was left with a massive headache. He told her that much as they traveled back from Dallas. He told her he was combating those things with apsirin and water but mainly, he just felt disappointed. He was curious how a placebo give him the visions that helped him interact with Shiraz and he asked her as much.

Scully believed he saw the motel on his way from the airport to the hospital and someone or something triggered a subconscious connection in his mind. While she believed in his certainty, she also denied that a Niacin pill could create a hallucination so strongly that he would connect to a man in a coma.

“I feel like a man who saw the dead, who was shown a truth and who nobody believes. I feel like it’s twenty years ago,” he said as he shook his head and she chuffed out a laugh. “Except my geography is different and I’ve lost a lot more.”

“Have you?” she asked. “Mulder, what about all you’ve gained?”

“I lost that too,” he said solemnly and looked up at her. “But.... Scully I think I’m getting it back.”

“Mulder, that’s where wonders never cease with you,” she told him softly. “You always hope.”

Mulder stood up and extended his hand to her. “Walk with me Scully.”

Their fingers interlaced and they made their way down the front steps together. The quiet of the neighbourhood washed over them. Insects moved about in the tall grass as birds talking to one another buzzed in the distance. Scully heard the sound of wind moving off the water of a lake they swam in when the nights were unbearably hot.

“I’ve been thinking about God,” he started.

“You, Mulder?” she said in calmed disbelief.

“I give you a lot of shit if there could be a higher power for someone who believes he saw Big Blue, Elvis in a potato chip and the Jersey Devil,” he admitted.

Scully laughed. “You really do, Mulder.”

“I’m not saying I’m about to start attending Sunday mass but since you’ve opened your mind to more possibilities, I suppose I should try to exercise the same due care,” he said and kicked his foot at a small pebble on the path.

“I don’t believe it,” she replied and it was his turn to laugh.

“We’ve seen so much and you’ve admitted to what you can believe outside what natural science allows us to understand,” he continued. They stopped their walk to face one another and took in the moment. “I mean, I want to believe in so much. If there was a higher purpose for all of us then I refuse to believe that women are having babies just for them to become martyrs.”

“No mother wants that for her child,” she told him and her voice caught in her throat.

Mulder took her hand in his and she saw pain reflected back in his eyes. The sacrifices they made as parents and the hope William was living up to the distant expectation parents have for their children lingered on no matter what his geographical location.

“They wish for health and happiness, love and laughter. I think that’s God’s will.”

“William has that, I’m sure,” he said and she nodded. “Don’t ask how I’m sure of it but I just feel it.”

“I feel it too,” she admitted.

Just two weeks ago she sat on a log by the waterfront and discussed her feelings of guilt over what they did. Deep down, she believed their son was doing well but her fear that he wasn’t managed to take over when the sadness of her life’s reality was too much to take. When one piece fell, they all crumbled around her and the fragility of her well-being could be affected. More so now that he wasn’t there to hold her in the middle of the night and tell her he was there to curse God or kiss away the hurt. He was good at that.

Mulder leaned down and kissed her softly. There was appreciation and intent and she longed for more.

“I think we’ll find him, Scully,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Or he’ll find us,” she suggested and he pulled away to look in her eyes. “Most children of adoption have a feeling of displacement, Mulder. You never know. He might look for us.”

Mulder kissed her again and she allowed him to enter her mouth with the sweetness and innocence of a first date. When the kiss broke, he pulled her towards him and he kissed the top of her head. “I believe we’ll see him again in this life, Scully.”

“Together, as a family,” she said into his chest.

“Fifteen years later.”

Mulder kissed the top of her head and she felt relaxed in the closeness they had just exchanged. It would make their upcoming discussion easier. Her mind traveled to the envelope of papers sitting in her bag.

“What are you thinking about?” Mulder asked as they walked back toward the house.

Daggoo was now sleeping on the flat of his back with his feet up in the air. Scully smiled at the pup and held her hand up to Mulder.

“I just need something from my car,” she said nervously. When she found Mulder, he was sitting on his chair with an expectant face. What she was going to hand him would either go over with him very well or not at all.

“I’m surprised you came here today,” he admitted. “After the last time we saw each other.”

“I’ve done some of my own searching Mulder,” she admitted. “After losing my mother and what’s happened between us I had to make some decisions.”

Scully handed him the folded papers and he looked at the item in his hand as though he had never seen a fat envelope before.

“Is this our end, Scully?” he asked.

Her heart sank. He thought she was handing him divorce papers. Even after all they had been through in the last few weeks, he was still doubting her and how she felt about him.

“No, Mulder,” she said and knelt down in front of him. Her hands slid up his thighs to work on the buckle of his jeans. “It’s another beginning.”

“Scully?” he asked.

When he asked her in that tone it didn’t mean what are you doing. It meant are you sure.

Her fingers made work of the fly on his grey pants and she pushed the waist band of his underwear down to remove his cock from his fly. The look on his face told her he was just as surprised to find himself hard as he was to witness her on her knees in front of him.

“I’m came here to make amends. I want us to be okay again,” she told him as she kissed the head of his throbbing cock.

“Nice ring,” he managed. His eyes focused on the engagement and wedding bands on the third digit of her left hand.

“Are you letting me apologize?” she asked before taking him in her mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed. “What are you-”

Her lips released his cock and she looked up at him. She was serious and solemn but a twinkle of playfulness was on her lips. “You said you’d stop chasing me, Mulder. I’m ready to come home.”

Her lips closed over his throbbing flesh again and she hollowed her cheeks for increased suction. Her fingernails scraped up his legs and her thumbs pushed into the muscles of his lean thighs. He would be on sensory overload quickly. She massaged the meat of his legs as her head moved up and down on his cock. She brought more saliva into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock on each upstroke.

“Come home,” he breathed as his head fell back against the window behind him.

She took him all the way into her mouth to the back of her throat and she massaged her tongue against the length of him. As she moved her head up, she swirled her tongue again and Mulder sighed. Her mouth moved up and down on his cock a few times before she looked up at him. Mulder closed his eyes and pushed his hand into his thigh near his face as a reaction to what she was doing. She appreciated he wasn’t pulling on her hair.

“I won’t make you chase me anymore,” she said as she wiped at her mouth.

Mulder opened his eyes and they shared a look.

“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Scully,” he sighed. She took him in again and hollowed her cheeks. “Oh Jesus. I think... Oh fuck... I already did that... Ah Christ.”

Mulder’s belief in a higher power was certainly a grey area when she was performing any act of fellatio. She could feel his hands twitching by her head and she felt him rub one hand tentatively across her shoulders. His goal would be to keep this going for as long as she was willing but also not to come as to prevent the next stage in their reunion.

Once, about six months into their sexual relationship, Mulder told Scully that while he appreciated the hell out of every sexual act that was just about him, he felt guilty for not being able to do much about it afterwards. After he came, he would promptly need a nap no matter what time of day it was when the orgasm occurred. He explained the frailty of being a man included wanting to feel confident in his own prowess and not to leave a woman hanging. Ladies first was his motto for more than just who walked through a doorway or climbed down into the nest of liver-eating mutant men.

He tapped her shoulder lightly. “No, Scully. Wait.”

His voice was desperate and the salty taste on her tongue that reminded her of his sunflower seeds told her that he was close.

Mulder pushed on her shoulder and she wiped away at the edge of her mouth as she sat up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Suddenly she was worried he was caught up in the moment and he was about to tell her to pack the bag, fuck her stack of papers and hit the road with her dog.

“Nothing,” he assured her quickly.

He stood up and pulled her to her feet. His cock was in the open air between them and she could feel the ridges of his member through the material of her shirt. They walked backward toward the edge of the porch and her body hit the pillar. He pushed her jacket down her arms and it fell on the dusty porch floor.

Mulder kissed her fully and thoroughly. His tongue was in her mouth and his hands were in her hair before quickly grabbing at her backside.

If he was going to make her pleasure proximal to his, he couldn’t waste time with tender kisses and slow moves. After a few weeks apart, she wouldn’t need a delicate touch. She would want a callous hand to grab at her flesh and something bold. Slow and sweet love making could wait.

His hands snuck under the hem of her shirt and she stopped him.

“Mulder, someone might see,” she admonished.

This was from the woman who was just on her knees in front of him. His hands pushed hers away and pulled her blue shirt over her head.

“God, I hope so.”

A thrill of excitement ran through her. His mouth took hers again and his fingers worked on the button on her trousers. He pushed her pants and underwear to the floor and turned her around to brace the ledge of the porch railing.

Scully heard herself moan. A feeling of transcendence washed over her as she almost left her body to watch this from the outside and to watch Mulder enter her slowly from behind while he remained almost fully clothed. The last time she found herself in a similar situation and close to being naked while Mulder fucked her might have been a few years. They came close in parked cars, in parks and hotel hallways recently. Yet the last time on this porch might have been longer. Maybe five years.

Mulder might try to remedy that in the upcoming months once he did the math. As much as he appreciated the traction of a well used mattress, Mulder never wanted Scully to complain about the lack of excitement in their sex lives. She wouldn’t gripe about such things if given the opportunity since the person who usually tried to maneuver them to a bed was her.

That was possibly why Mulder liked to encourage her to make love on blankets by the lake on their property or in parked cars at burger joints. He told her he liked to see the thrill in her eyes as she did something dangerous and untoward in societal standards. Public fornication was defintiely a Catholic no-no.

Mulder pushed his hips into her backside and he groaned behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see him closing his eyes. “God Scully you feel good.”

She gripped her hands into the chipped paint on the porch railing as he pulled back and rammed into her again. And again. His fingers bit into her hips and held onto her greedily and uncaring for bruises that would be there in the morning.

He felt substantial and distressing inside of her. The absence of his intrusions over the last few weeks and the position were making for sharp pangs with each thrust. It was exactly what she needed.

“Mulder,” she cried as he slammed into her again.

“What?” he grunted.

“We should get into a bed,” she pleaded as he moved inside her.

Mulder’s right hand moved to her clit and circled it twice. “Here, Scully. On the threshold.”

Oh fuck.

“Oh fuck is right,” he agreed.

She realized she was moaning and cursing out loud as she approached the final climb toward an intense orgasm. It would be persuasive to a second and third if Mulder’s stamina would hold up.

He was quite effacious in his fifties. Scully felt appreciative that not everything changed with age for the worse.

“Scully you’re getting so tight,” he moaned as he worked his finger across her clit. He pushed himself inside of her and held himself there as he tried to help her achieve release. “God, you’re almost pushing me out.”

Her inner lips swelled and she cried out as her orgasm washed over her. He was relentless and held his fingers to her sex as he pushed her to keep going. The fall into ectasy was equisite and she felt the fire of her pleasure centre releasing through her whole body. Mulder kissed the back of her neck and bit the muscle on her shoulder as her walls milked at his thickness inside of her. Sometimes just her orgasm was enough to push him over the edge. Sometimes he liked to feel that as many times as she could before she collapsed on a mattress and begged off that she couldn’t anymore. Today seemed to inspire Mulder to the latter.

“Dana,” he whispered into her hair.

“Uh,” she grunted as she pushed her face into her bicep. “What?”

“Come upstairs to bed,” he encouraged. It sounded better than any invitation he could have extended.

He pulled out of her and tucked himself back into his pants. He grabbed her clothes and held a hand out to her. She pulled up her underwear and pants to follow him inside.

Daggoo ran inside after them and found his bed on the floor of the living room. He barked once after Scully and Mulder as they made their way up the steps to the master bedroom.

The curtains were drawn on the room but the bed was made. He dropped her clothes on the chair by the door and shed his pants.

“Take off your clothes, Scully,” he instructed as she pushed back the comforter on the bed.

Scully turned to him and undid the button on her pants. They fell to the floor and she kicked them aside. She reached behind her to unhooked the clasp on her bra. As the straps fell down her arms, she took the cups in each to pull it away from her body. She tossed the undergarment next to her white pants. As she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties, she watched Mulder twitch in his pants. He undid the fly on his trousers, reached inside and gave himself a few strokes. She imagined him still wet with her juices.

“Get on the bed,” he instructed and Scully sat down to scoot towards the middle. “Roll on your side.”

She laid down on her side away from Mulder and her left leg in front of her with her knee bent. She remembered this position well. It was a favourite of theirs over the years. They were particularly fond of it during the year they dated before the abduction and after his return.

Her body shivered and she swallowed at the anticipation of what was coming next. She heard Mulder disrobing behind her and she moved her head to look over her shoulder. The lights were off in the bedroom and the curtains were drawn. She cold barely make out his figure against the doorway.

“Relax, Scully,” he whispered as he climbed on the bed behind her.

A large hand rubbed up and down her thigh. She felt his mouth kiss up her back as his thumb rubbed at the ouroboros on her lower back.

Once she found his journal where he wrote that she was never more refined as when she was in his hands and Scully felt herself flush at the sight of his words about her. It felt intimate to see a thought about her he kept private when he usually shared them with her. He told her almost everything else.

“Women in their fifties with lower back tattoos don’t normally look like you, you know,” Mulder murmured as he rubbed the head of his cock against her folds. He pushed her thigh up so it was perpendicular to her torso and he put one knee between her legs. “They usually have stained teeth and are thrice divorced from two different guys.”

Scully clutched at the pillow in preparation. “Maybe I’m one of those women.”

Mulder pushed inside her slightly and laughed. “I don’t know any man alive who would be sane enough to lose you twice. Even I’m not that foolish.”

He slid inside her all the way and rocked his hips into hers. She could feel him pushing against her cervix and she sighed. With her leg up she could touch herself as he moved in and out of her. Her right middle finger made work of the bundle of nerves at her centre and Mulder grunted above her. He was in so deep and the sharp pang that accompanied their first time after missing him for a few weeks felt like the good kind of hurt.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as he pushed into her again.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she replied.

Mulder kept his thrusts slow and deliberate. He rocked against her and she knew he was doing this all for her. It was as if he took a rant in a Texas motel room about light cream cheese to heart and he decided there would be no further selfish acts from him. Sexually speaking he managed to live up to that motto while he faltered continually with everything else.

 _The man couldn’t be perfect all the time_ , she supposed.

Mulder kissed her shoulder and the back of her head. She turned her face to kiss his lips and he tried to keep his face as close to hers as he moved in and out of her. Her finger moved across her clit and she felt her lips swell further. Mulder pushed in and out of her slowly and with purpose. Her hips began to gyrate at each push inside her and their moans filled the room.

“Are you getting close, Scully?” Mulder asked as his hand moved from her hip to her backside.

“Yes,” she breathed.

His thumb snuck bewteen them and he coated it with her juices before pushing it inside her bottom.

“Oh fuck!” she cried out.

He moved his thumb and cock in unison until her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O. It hit her like a ten tonne truck. The pulses washed over her liked an angry wave of the ocean. He stilled as her body went taught underneath him and he rode out the waves of her climax until his own came on. He pushed into her hard and fast. His thumb kept inside her back door and she felt another wave rush over her.

“No more!” she pleaded as the hand that had been tantalizing her bundle of nerves clutched at the pillow.

He continued to pump inside of her and she shuddered underneath him. He asked, “You want me to stop?”

“Oh god, no don’t... Oh fuck,” she moaned.

Mulder continued to pump in and out of her and she felt her body go limp. She was just there and feeling his turgid flesh inside of her. She wasn’t able to move her hips or help him in anyway.

“You like to be fucked like this,” he growled at her and her nod was almost imperceivable.

He pulled his thumb out from her anus and maneuvered her onto her front so that her knees were underneath her. He pulled out slowly and pushed into her hard. He thrust three more times and she felt him throb and pulse inside her as he came.

“Oh fuck, Scully!”

There was a moment of quiet in the room and Mulder put one hand down on the mattress beside her. She glanced up at him but only saw the glowing of his crazy green eyes and the outline of his figure in the room. In retrospect she might understand why the lights were off for a man who wanted to see every reaction and facial expression while he performed every sexual act on her or just the mere sight of her on him.

When he stopped throbbing, Mulder pulled out slowly and helped her off the bed. He followed her into the darkened bathroom as she cleaned herself up and he did the same.

“You never did tell me what was in those papers,” Mulder said as he pulled a T-shirt over his head.

He handed a freshly folded one to Scully and she smiled softly as she pulled her hair from the collar. She found her underpants and pulled them on before trying at the light on the night stand.

“I want you on the lease at my apartment,” she said as they pulled back the covers on the bed. The apartment she leased when she moved from this home to someplace that continually felt temporary. “I want it all to be ours again.”

It was her apartment, leased in her name but she wanted him on it. She wanted him on her title as much as she was on the house he hid himself away and shouted the sky was falling. But they were going to be unified in ownership at least on all fronts.

“You want to keep the apartment?” he asked.

“If we’re working in D.C., doesn’t it make sense to commute from there and spend our weekends here?” she offered.

The smile on his face told her it was the best offer he had heard since she proposed they make a baby in a Petrie dish.

“Okay, Scully,” he agreed. “We’ll have both.”


	18. An Absolution from Sin

The sound of a car driving down the highway echoed over the grass and into the open window of their bedroom. Mulder laid on his side away from her while he caught up on some obviously some much-needed sleep. Scully laid with her bare chest pressed into the soft sheets they had changed that afternoon and she turned her head to try to hear if the car was slowing down to turn towards them. The day had threatened to fall into night as dusk lingered along the horizon but she couldn’t rely on headlights flashing on the tall grass for an answer.

After too many years of living on that property with a fugitive, it was hard to turn her brain off from the worry that came with a visitor to the stretch of land. They chose it far enough away from the city that Mulder could walk around without worrying he would be spotted but close enough to a few amenities that a run to the store for milk didn’t feel like a trip from an Antarctic crater to a stranded Sno-Cat.

Reconciling as a couple would come with its share of hiccups but Mulder wouldn’t let her get away with avoidance and emotional restrictions. She was trying not to keep a tally but so far a look to the side, a firm statement of ‘I don’t want to talk about this’ and walking into another room was not enough for Mulder to let anything lie. Admittedly, she appreciated the call out because they were trying to move forward.

Scully felt Mulder’s arm slip off her side and she rolled over to see him looking at her with slow blinking eyes and searching for assurance.

“I didn’t dream it,” he noted with a voice rough from sleep.

“Dream what?” she asked but she had an idea of what he was referring to.

“You came back,” he said.

“Not a dream,” she assured him and reached her hand out to pinch his side to prove it. Even tired, his reflexes caught her wrist before she could catch some of his flesh between two nails. “Well, how will you know it’s real unless I show you?”

“I believe.”

They laughed as they got out of bed. Mulder suggested they cook something just as Scully’s stomach growled loudly. Surprisingly, he had a number of groceries in his fridge and Scully was able to prepare spaghetti bolognese while they shared a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. This was the man he had become in her absence, the man who shopped for healthy foods and took care of himself out of necessity. She admired the change but wished it had come before times became dark between them.

As they ate their dinner and Daggoo ate his, Mulder pushed for details. Nothing was forgotten but everything had to be forgiven including the minor infidelity of dating Tad O’Malley. Just two days ago, he was making snide remarks about Tad but it was his insecurity showing. With everything laid out, she hoped the comments would stop and he would let it go.

She watched his jaw clench and she knew it was a signal he was about to ask a question he didn’t completely want the answer to.

“Sex?” he asked with a forced casual tone as he twirled the spaghetti noodles around his fork.

“Mulder,” she warned and he looked at her expectantly as he chewed his generous bite.

Daggoo paused his chewing to drink from his water bowl and the sound of his loud lapping at the liquid filled the silence.

“Was it bad sex and that’s why you don’t want to tell me?” he asked.

There was an acerbic undertone to his voice and she knew it was because he was hurt that she even entertained the idea of another man’s company. What she wanted in her life was the man he was capable of being, not the shell of a person who had let his paranoia take over his life. She was driven away from their home as much as she ran from it.

Mulder had to force every detail of each date out of her and while she resented the inquiry, she knew he needed to absolve the times they spent together in his mind. He wasn’t judging. He wasn’t accusing but he wanted to know and she owed him the truth.

“I know this is the only way for you to honestly move on but I really resent the question,” she told him.

The clock on the wall ticked the seconds loudly as he waited for her to continue but she wouldn’t.

“And?” he prompted.

“No sex,” Scully told him and he nodded slowly as he accepted that answer. “Just three, um actually, four kisses.”

This was painful and frustrating however it was the only way for them to honestly move on from the hurt and the anger they both felt.

“Four?” he repeated.

“ _Mulder_ ,” she warned.

She couldn’t blame him for the inquisition. She was surprised he wasn’t angrier or showing something else besides the calm facade he was putting on for her.

“I haven’t been with anyone else either,” he offered casually.

That surprised her - not because Mulder would be anything but loyal to the end but because he had opportunities. He was tall, sexy and charming even when he was being an ass.

“I thought that woman from the library who called here a few times-” Scully started.

“No,” he interrupted.

There was another beat of silence as they remembered Lydia, the local librarian who called the house at awkward times when silence filled their dinner table more than happy conversations.

To his credit, Mulder was loyal, sweet and attentive when he was at his best. At his worst, he was like many men - selfish, frustrating and weak. He was flattered by attention from attractive brunettes with concern for only his well-being. Scully thought that he might have entertained the notion of another woman since she had buried herself in her work as she tried to avoid the frustrations of home. She imagined him telling a sympathetic and beautiful woman how his wife doesn’t listen nor appreciate him anymore. The thought of him even looking at another woman the way he looked at her with admiration and love made her feel sick to her stomach. The jealous side of her personality had wanted to follow him, accuse him when he came home of cheating and telling him that she finally had grounds for an annulment.

If Lydia had known their whole story, she probably would have called the authorities to recommend professional help for both Mulder and Scully. It would have been too fantastical for the average person to believe.

On the surface, Mulder could be charming and funny while also remaining a gentleman and she had suspected he continued visiting the library to have those qualities appreciated by someone. Scully brooded over him needing that attention from someone else but she was being selfish at the time because she felt hurt too.

At the time, Scully deduced that Mulder kept their conversations to safer topics while still sharing tidbits of their situation. He didn’t have any other friends to confide in and she couldn’t blame him for needing someone to talk to. He as much yelled that at her when she was leaving for work and she wouldn’t speak to him all morning. Yet when you are married, that someone you relied upon should be your spouse and not a complete stranger. The conversations, the time he spent with her and the avoidance at home felt like a betrayal, even though he sat there and assured her it was nothing.

“We went for a walk after she helped me with my research when things weren’t going well with you and me,” he told her. “But nothing happened.”

Scully nodded slowly. “Good.”

“I didn’t kiss her either,” Mulder said.

“I guess I’m a lesser person than you are,” she sighed and picked up her fork again.

“I don’t blame you for going on a date with someone, Scully,” he said gently. “I just wish it wasn’t with a _Republican_.”

“Really?” she questioned. “That’s what you have a problem with?”

“No, actually, but if I focus on the fact that he did kiss you, it will drive me crazy and I can’t go there,” he said and she looked down at her noodles feeling a mix of justification and shame. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not angry or hurt. That’s not why we’re having this discussion.”

“You’re not hurt?” she clarified.

“Dana,” he started as he reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m honestly… maybe I’m hurt but I can’t keep that feeling inside me anymore. There has been enough darkness in this house. For both of us.”

“I feel bad, a little,” she told him and his expression softened more. “But your absolution is appreciated.”

Mulder looked over to where Daggoo was pushing his bowl around to eat the pieces of kibble at the bottom of his dish. Scully’s eyes followed his and they watched as the bowl made a loud clanging that was sharp against her ears.

“Why… What were you thinking about when you went out wth him?” Mulder asked. “That he would replace-”

“No,” she cut him off. She shook her head. “No. Not to replace anything.”

“Why, then?” he asked.

Scully wiped at a tear on her cheek. “I wanted to be Dana for a while. Someone who didn’t have all the loss we had. Someone who wasn’t damaged and needed me to fight away demons. It wasn’t my best moment and I’m sorry.”

Mulder sat back in his chair and he shook his head. “After all I put you through with my obsession over the ending that didn’t happen, I can’t imagine that was an easy time for you. I’m not saying I would have… met someone else but…”

“It wasn’t like that-” she protested.

“Okay,” he interrupted softly. “Scully. We vowed to keep the darkness out and I broke it over what never came. Not the best quality for a husband.”

December of 2012 didn’t bring an alien apocalypse and by February 2013, Mulder was unbearable to be around. She suspected now that he didn’t like who he was either but his fears became too big and it made their relationship feel crowded.  
  
She shook her head slightly. “I’m still sorry that I felt like I needed that- it’s nothing I’m proud of.”

Mulder reached across the table again. “I know, Dana. The man I was when you left wasn’t someone I’m proud of either.”

She nodded slowly. They had really become the worst versions of themselves at a time when they should have been inspiring the best.

“We seem to have a lot of important discussions over spaghetti,” Mulder commented as Daggoo finished his kibble and left the kitchen.

The sound of him settling himself on his bed and sniffing the space he slept on came first. The small dog began chewing on his nails that needed a trim and Scully felt the need to fill the silence between them.

“You used to propose over spaghetti,” she reminded him.

“I always meant it,” he told her earnestly.

She believed it now.

They had many other long conversations that laid out more on the table about what their expectations were as they moved forward. They managed to multitask with cleaning the kitchen as he told her how he felt. The woman at the library, Lydia, was discussed in thorough detail. Scully had never met her but spoken to her on the phone once or twice and it left her feeling territorial and inadequate.

“I wasn’t attracted to her,” Mulder clarified as he put the plates in the cupboard. Scully turned off the tap and turned to him. “I _wasn’t_.”

“I’ve seen her,” Scully reminded him.

Lydia was a tall brunette with green eyes and a kind smile. She was soft-spoken, a trait beneficial to librarians and women who liked to spend time with married men to seem better than their harsh wives.

Scully shook her head at the thought.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“I’m having unkind thoughts about her and you,” she confessed and wiped her hands on the tea towel next to the sink.

“Scully,” he started. “She wasn’t someone I wanted… I didn’t kiss her.”

“Did you want to kiss her?” she asked as her voice cracked at the end.

“ _No_ ,” he said emphatically. “I think I liked the attention she gave me but not in the way you think.”

“What then?”

“I missed… I missed being able to talk to a friend,” he told her. “Frohike, Byers and Langly are long gone and you didn’t seem to want to hear me out.”

That wasn’t entirely true or untrue. She was hurt and anything coming from him at the time only seemed to wedge them further apart so they opted for silence.

“You really didn’t want to kiss her?” she asked, hating the insecurity in her voice but not being able to hide it.

Mulder looked at her. “Maybe but talking with her felt like I was betraying a trust so…”

“How is that supposed to make me feel?” she asked him.

“In reference to your thing with Tad?” he asked and she nodded, hugging her arms around her torso. “You met Tad after things were a lot worse between you and I than when I went for a walk with Lydia. Neither of us should be proud of what’s happened.”

Mulder pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. She unwrapped her arms from her own body to envelope him as he hugged her reassuringly.

In the end, as they turned off the kitchen light and went upstairs to bed, they had both admitted to feeling like the air had been cleared with past transgressions. They weren’t starting over but they had to wipe the slate clean and forgive. Ultimately, that’s what they had to do if they were going to push beyond this stagnant place of estrangement.

They brushed their teeth at the sink and left their pyjamas for another night. Even if they didn’t make love again, she wanted to feel his skin against hers.

“I feel like we’re saying wedding vows,” Mulder said after they both promised not to fall back into old patterns of self-destructive behaviour.

He was sitting against the headboard and she was laying on her stomach again, trying to regain some semblance of cover while feeling happy just to be in bed with him.

Scully had to promise not to emotionally shut down or separate herself from Mulder. He put his hand on his well-worn copy of “Broca’s Brain; Reflections on the Romance of Science” by Carl Sagan that he picked up at a flea market while on the run.

“Dana Katherine Scully but it should be Mulder since I married you,” Mulder began and she rolled her eyes with a reluctant smile. “I promise on my favourite Carl Sagan book to honour and cherish you, love and respect you, and to get my head out of my ass and recognize when I’m becoming obsessive and reclusive. I promise to listen to reason and science.”

“That’s a _big_ promise,” she noted.

“I’m not interested in losing you again,” he said frankly. “You’re more important than any quest.”

“As long as it’s our quest,” she bartered.

There was a pause and she saw him realizing where this was going.

“Finding William?” he guessed.

She clenched her chin and he leaned across the small space between them to kiss her lips softly.

“I want to find him, Mulder,” Scully told him and Mulder cocked his head to the side to study her. “I need to tell him-”

“He knows,” Mulder interrupted gently.

His motives to stop her from looking for William were possibly trying to save her the hurt or rejection that might come from finding their son, now a teenager. Mulder tried to explain that not all children put up for adoption want to find their parents, despite the displacement they feel. Yet, they had promised to search for him and ensure he knew that their sacrifice was not one easily made. They promised that together just a week ago.

“It might be selfish,” she started. “But I want to find him and I need your help, Mulder. Please.”

There was a look on his face as he weighed the pros and cons internally but they both knew if she asked him anything, he couldn’t say no.

“I want to find him too, Scully. I just worry about aspects of that reunion. What if he tells us to leave him alone?”

“Then at least I’ll see he grew up to be as stubborn and pigheaded as his father,” Scully replied with a wry smile.

Mulder laughed softly and pulled the sheet from the bed down her body. “I’m going to make you pay for that one.”

She glanced down to where the sheets exposed the skin Mulder had kissed and touched that afternoon until she cried out in ecstasy thrice over. “You don’t want to admit I’m right?”

“If I acknowledge that I’m stubborn, will that make me any less than if I deny that I am?” he proposed and she smiled. “Why don’t we call that a double whammy from genetics, Scully? He gets it from both of us.”

“You’re assuming he is?” she asked.

“He would come by it honestly. I’m sure he has many other of your wonderful qualities as well,” he said in an attempt to dig less of a hole. “Such as… your warm heart.”

“Are you calling me stubborn, Mulder?” she asked with a smile.

“It’s one of the things I love most about you, Scully,” he said as he turned her onto her side away from him and pressed his burgeoning desire into her bare backside.

“Promise you’ll help me find him,” she asked as she closed her eyes.

“I wouldn’t let you go alone,” he told her.

There was something in his tone she couldn’t quite place and she wondered if there was something else he wasn’t sharing regarding their son.

The details of how they could find William were left for another moment as Mulder tried to make up for lost unions and celebrate their reconciliation a fourth time. It took his deft fingers playing at her clit to help her come as he pumped in and out from behind her. The angle hit the spots she needed as his free hand held her hips in place. It was a wonderfully slow build into an intense spring of her desires and she tumbled slowly and softly into release.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow on his side. When she returned to the bedroom after cleaning herself off, she spotted the red patch of irritated skin on his pectoral muscle. The doctor inside her wanted to apply an analgesic cream to help heal the skin but the other part of her wanted to ask why he hadn’t shown it to her earlier. Her mind rebuked herself for not seeing it and pushing to ask about it.

Over the years in the office, if Mulder had a paper cut, he would present the wounded digit to her and wait for her to wrap a Band-Aid around it. Once, when Mulder had cut himself deeply and he pouted slightly, she kissed the spot after she applied the adhesive strip and watched him smile at her in utter delight. It was before an almost kiss in his hallway and profession of love from a hospital bed.

It made his motives for not coming to her about the irritation on his chest very questionable but she decided to treat it in the morning whether he liked it or not. Daggoo snored quietly in the corner of their room and snorted from his bed. Sleep was a welcomed friend and she relaxed into it with the familiar crickets and night noises of their ordinary house.

  
*** *** ***

The dream she had immediately before she awoke was not the first time she had it.

_She was being driven in an SUV down a long, bare road towards a house in a valley. The farmland surrounding her was vast and the wheat fields were a vivid golden yellow. It was a beautiful sight to behold but not one from a memory. The name on the mailbox was obscured by a black X across the side of the painted metal. She stood on the edge of the driveway and looked over her shoulder to Tad behind her, in the same suit he wore on their last date. His hand pointed out towards the field and she stared back in front of her to see the figure of William moving closer to her instead of further away._

_His hair was shining under the sun in her dream and she could feel the heat of the summer air on her face. As she reached out to him, he disappeared into smoke and she was suddenly alone. A bright light boomed over the sky that was suddenly night and she looked up to see the familiar ship from almost twenty years ago._

_“They’re back!” she cried out but no one was there to listen to her warning._

Scully awoke in their bed and she felt bile in the back of her throat. With hopes the dream was not forewarning, mostly because she didn’t believe in that kind of thing, she got out of bed and showered alone to contemplate what it meant. Mulder would argue it was an omen. After their last case, she might believe him.

It was the morning after they decided to reconcile and she was feeling a sense of calmness and assuredness in their decision. Being apart didn’t make sense for their hearts. They were who they were, he completed her and she couldn’t keep pretending that living her life was anything without him in it. He was the one thing in her life that made sense.

He came into the kitchen as she was dicing vegetables for an omelette to announce he had other plans for them that day. Following his instructions, she put the chopped vegetables into a reusable container and put the pan back in the cupboard. She wondered if the Band-Aid-Nose Man might forgive what she didn’t put in the compost.

Scully entered the living room to await the big reveal. Mulder told her to get her things and get in the car where his suits were hanging in the back of the SUV. Daggoo watched from the living room window as they turned off the driveway.

When they turned onto X street, she realized he was taking her to Lincoln’s Waffle Shop.

“Really, Mulder?” she asked.

The expectation for a fancy breakfast wasn’t one she anticipated Mulder to pick up on and follow through with. Scully appreciated fancy country clubs that served decadent eggs benedict but small places like this always had more emotional ties for them than the extravagant places most average couples had the luxury of fond memories. Except for the country club Mulder fucked her in the bathroom during Maggie’s birthday while they were estranged. That place will always have a special spot in both their hearts.

They appreciated the irony of a place that had the tackiness to name a waffle house across the street from where a beloved president was assassinated. There was some outwardly tacky appeal with the loud green facade but moreover, they had amazing food.

It was forty-five minutes before they were due to meet with their lawyer about Scully’s apartment. As they waited for their table, they looked around the diner that had maintained its charming appeal over the years.

“How many meals do you think we’ve had here over the last twenty years?” he asked her as he rubbed a hand up her back.

Mulder’s reassuring touches through the day were a welcomed repeat behaviour she forgot how much she missed when she was gone.

“Over five hundred,” she guessed with certainty.

The host approached them with an overly-friendly smile and told them to follow her to their booth. One of the seasoned waitresses that worked there brought them coffee right away and two glasses of ice water. Mulder handed Scully two creams and a Splenda while he stirred in a packet of brown sugar into his mug.

Scully set down the porcelain mug onto the saucer that was missing part of the delicate blue line on the rim. “Why do you ask?”

“Five hundred doesn’t seem excessive?” he asked and she shrugged. “There should be a commemorative waffle plaque for that many bad breakfasts endured.”

“I thought you liked this place,” she noted. “You bring me here enough, Mulder.”

Their waitress approached and they ordered a waffle, a crispy side of bacon, eggs benedict, a fruit cup and hash browns to share. Mulder looked impressed as Scully ordered the last item for their breakfast and their waitress thanked them before letting them know it wouldn’t be too long.

“Bacon _and_ hash browns?” Mulder noted.

Scully glanced around and decided no one was close enough to their table to hear them. “I had quite the activity level yesterday. I feel famished.”

He grinned proudly. “Medically speaking, would all that activity be considered impressive for people our age?”

“Possibly,” she said coyly. “I thought you were going to bring me to the country club from my mother’s last birthday.”

“I had thought about that,” he said with pinked cheeks and she felt impressed with herself.

“So, why here?” she asked.

“Lincoln’s Waffle Shop gives me flashbacks to all those diners we ate at on the road with the X-Files,” he said with a shrug. “I like those greasy spoons. There was something romantic to me about being in the middle of nowhere with you, watching you steal my fries before I kissed you and trying to convince you that what we were after was a werewolf.”

“That was a long time ago,” she reminded him and flushed a little. She took a bite of the cantaloupe she skewered with her fork. “I mean, when you were trying to convince me about werewolves.”

“I’d be a liar if I didn’t think about kissing you then but it was mostly out of curiosity and not with the love and respect I have for you now,” he said with a shameless smile. Scully raised one eyebrow and he shrugged. “I wasn’t some kind of horn dog. That urge wasn’t all the time.”

“Well, I know that,” Scully said teasingly and they both smiled.

“Hi guys!” Scully’s lawyer, Mindy Weir, approached the table with a giant smile on her face. “So nice to see you again!”

Mindy Weir was a lawyer that was helpful with legal advice before the FBI expunged Mulder’s record. Her retainer was small and she had been a great friend to Scully when she could literally talk to no one, even her mother. Mindy had deep brown eyes and caramel coloured skin that looked amazing in every colour. Regardless of being a serious lawyer, she once met Scully in sweatpants that said Juicy across the backside on a Saturday morning.

“Dana,” Mindy started as she slid into the booth next to her. She placed her cool dark hand over Scully’s and squeezed her fingers. “I’m so sorry about Maggie.”

Scully squeezed back and tightened her lips. “Thank you.”

Mindy wouldn’t linger on a topic for too long that she could see was making people uncomfortable. If she got the feeling that Scully couldn’t or wouldn’t answer more than Mindy was asking for, she made a note on her white legal pad, underlined it and moved on. It was helpful when Scully was trying to explain to her why Mulder went into hiding in the first place. Even then, no one would believe that a super soldier existed, let alone the alien DNA the government was using to manipulate these former Army soldiers into becoming killing machines.

“I drew up the new lease agreements for you both to sign and I can file them today with the property management company,” Mindy told them. “I just need your signatures where I’ve marked, buy me a bagel and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I guess marriage reconciliation papers are a little quicker than divorce,” Mulder said dryly and Mindy nodded.

Scully ignored the line and looked at her watch. “You don’t want to stay for a full breakfast?”

Mindy smiled tightly. “Can’t. I’m on my way to meet with two associates from a competing firm to merge a lawsuit and I don’t want to feel too heavy. I can’t think straight if I’m digesting too much.”

“Add a bagel to our tab,” Mulder said to the waitress as she was walking by.

“With real cream cheese,” Mindy chimed in as she showed Mulder were to sign. “And a fruit cup!”

Scully signed her name next and Mindy slipped the stack of papers back in the dark tote with a leopard print scarf around the handle to show she was not entirely square as a lawyer. It didn’t make her any less effective.

Mindy bid them good luck and took her bagel to go. “Careful crossing the street!”

Mulder laughed because he was a sucker for a tacky joke about assassinations.

They finished their breakfasts and stared at Ford’s Theatre as they exited the waffle shop.

“Do you think the world would have been different or better if he hadn’t been assassinated?” Mulder asked as he fished his keys out of his pocket.

“Definitely,” she said. “But sometimes tragedies like Lincoln and Kennedy spur the country towards other, greater things. Who knows?”

“Like without Hitler, would we appreciate genocide for its atrocities or would we just realize the monsters inside men were never to be put in positions of power?” Mulder mused. He slipped his free hand into hers and she shook her head. “I mean, humanity always strives to be better after losing something great. I did.”

“Were you better without me?” she asked as they approached the car.

“No, but I wanted to be better so that I was worthy of you,” he said and kissed her assuredly. “I lost that somewhere with my head up my ass.”

Who could argue with that?

Scully smiled. “You’re _more_ than worthy.”

Mulder drove them to Scully’s apartment where his suits and some other clothes would now live. She was packing some items to keep at the ordinary house. They were going to commit to cohabiting in two places with functionality. Spending their Mondays and Fridays in Washington and their weekends at the ordinary house they chose as a respite after running for too long.

After Mulder’s record was expunged and he was able to get his name on the title with the house, it wasn’t an option for Scully to sell their property. While keeping the home in both their names created some minor tax issues for Scully every year, she couldn’t bear to ask Mulder to move. Now, with their relationship on the mend, keeping both homes was the only thing that made sense to her. She wasn’t interested in living full time in the city just as much as she didn’t want to commute every day from Alexandria. A middle ground had to be found and Mulder seemed to be happy with the proposed solution.

If he wasn’t content, she wasn’t aware of it and after all the promises he made to her the first two days they had off from the FBI, she had to trust he would no longer withhold from her.

She watched him as he haphazardly organized his suits in the closet she once subconsciously left space for. Mulder hung each well-tailored item next to the other and smiled self-satisfactorily at his spacing. It was something he had picked up on from her and her rigid nature over the years. He had to concede that his suits were less wrinkled when he left a thumb space between the hangers and then teasingly called her an uptight so-and-so.

“You say that now but you’ll thank me when Skinner doesn’t give you a dirty look for wearing a wrinkled suit,” she replied as she packed another bag of casual clothes to bring back to the house.

Mulder came up behind her and pulled her hips back towards his. “This domestic stuff is hot.”

She looked over her shoulder to him as his mouth buried in her hair. “It’s hot?”

“When we were first dating-” he stopped himself. “Was it just dating at the beginning?”

“Mulder, I don’t think we were just anything but I guess you could say when we started sleeping together sixteen years ago, that was dating,” she mused as his right hand moved up her torso.

“Okay,” he said casually as his palm cupped her left breast. “So, when we were first dating, we didn’t really get to move things from one place to another and do this kind of thing.”

The way his hands felt on her body felt too good but her mind was determined to finish his trail of thought. “I guess not. I had some things at your place and vice versa but…”

“Not like this,” he pointed out. “And then I got myself abducted by those pesky fucking aliens after getting you pregnant, got dropped in the middle of nowhere when they were done with me and died like some kind of a jackass.”

She laughed but it was a terribly awful thing to endure and not at all funny at the time. The hormones during pregnancy were already creating a whirlwind and then she lost Mulder. It was a lot for one person to survive after everything else that had happened in her life.

“Then I just left you,” he continued.

The reality was she asked him to leave to protect him from prosecution. Her postpartum emotional rollercoaster also had somewhat of another twist and turn with worrying for Mulder’s safety and William’s. She had a gash on her forehead as she fought to protect their son in her home. What normal life was she supposed to provide for William when monsters worked their way into what should have been a safe space? Hindsight being what it was, he should have stayed because when they fought together, they were always a stronger team.

She didn’t like to think of the alternate reality that could have been her life with Mulder and William. One version could have been something saccharine and wonderful but the one she hated to think about was that it could have ended in all their deaths.

“You came back,” she mentioned.

Mulder’s desire was becoming evident against her backside and he pushed himself against her bottom a bit. “You rescued me.”

“I don’t think we need to keep a tally of who keeps saving who,” she said but there was a telltale swelling in her sex that told her she was appreciating his touch. “Mulder?”

“Yeah?” he said roughly. His hand left her breast and before she could whimper at the loss, he turned her around with his hands as though she was on pointe. Her feet never stumbled when he moved her around and she would always appreciate how graceful he made her feel in his hands. His face buried against her neck and sparks flew from the nerves his stubble scratched down to her belly. “You were saying?”

“I um…” her voice trailed off as the hand from her hips slid to her ass cheeks and gripped the flesh under her linen pants. His mouth was starting to kiss along the sensitive skin on her neck. “I think we had some cohabiting… um… Oh fuck it.”

She turned her face to his and they kissed long and with ardent fervour. He was familiar and sweet but his mouth was hungry for her. Each stroke of his tongue against hers made her throb so quickly. Whatever pheromones Mulder gave off when he was excited should be bottled and sold. His sexy was universally appealing, not to just women. He was more effective than personal lubricants at the pharmacies next to contraceptives.

“I need you, Scully,” he said honestly when the kiss broke.

She felt her sex throb and she reached between them to feel the ridges of his flesh pressing against her through his jeans. The man filled out a pair of jeans in all the best ways and when he was hard inside them, it reminded her of the days when they went on the run and so much of their love making felt like frantic fucking. It was incredible to her how excited she felt while doing everything on instinct.

His hands were up her chest and kneading the flesh of her breasts. She pulled her hand from between them and his hips pushed harder into her backside. He was pulling at her in all directions, from behind and the front, and she welcomed the overwhelming sensations from his touch.

His mouth kissed the skin on her neck as his other hand moved down her flat stomach and to the waist on her Ann Taylor pants. Mulder’s fingers unhitched the clasp on her belly button and she heard an audible sigh leave her lips.

As his fingers danced down toward the edge of her panties, she felt her breath catch in her throat. Why was nothing between them routine or dull when the intent was their mutual release? Mulder never made her feel used, even when things were tense or he was hurried.

“When was the last time we were here together?” he asked as his hand cupped her. A low growl bubbled up from his throat as his fingers made contact with the juices from her sex. “When we had ice cream after that case?”

She was trying to think about then. He fucked her against the refrigerator and she felt the evidence of their union for two days after.

“A month ago,” she guessed. “I think?”

So much had happened since then. Their work together proved to be the catalyst through the emotional turmoil they’d survived and the reconciliation they had finally come to settle on.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that,” he told her.

“It got me through some lonely nights, too,” she admitted as he pushed her pants and underwear down her hips.

Mulder unzipped his jeans and she heard the sound of the material hitting the floor. As his hand leaned them forward, she pushed her palms into the plush bedding.

He rubbed the length of himself along her bare ass and she felt a rush of excitement. His other free hand held hers to the bed.

Mulder was a man of variety, especially when it came to sex. They rarely had it the same way more than twice so she didn’t think anything of it that he was taking her from behind a second time. Usually when they were together in such intimate ways, he wanted to watch her face and see every reaction. He told her how he appreciated watching her breasts bounce as she rode him or he fucked her against a wall.

Of course, he told her this early on in their relationship as he watched her breasts move up and down as her backside ground against his lap. He told her how unfair it was to want to watch her face and her body as she did such beautiful things with them.

The last two days, he was choosing to have her from behind and she didn’t mind it one bit. If she was another woman or less secure in her body, she might worry he was less attracted to watching her during their intimate moments.

Scully realized it wasn’t her that he didn’t want to see but him.

“Mulder,” she said suddenly.

The tone in her voice prompted his cock against her backside to still and his hands released her.

“What?” he asked.

She kicked her clothes to the side and turned to face him. “Take your shirt off.”

Mulder hesitated but took the sweater and t-shirt off in one move. He kept his eyes on her face while she moved her gaze to his chest.

“Are you hiding this from me?” she asked as the tips of her fingers grazed under the reddish spot under his collarbone.

“No,” he said immediately and closed his eyes. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Her other hand wrapped around his dick. “Mulder, we promised no hiding.”

“Uh…” his voice was a growl in his throat and she could see the confusion on his face. “Yeah?”

“Are you having any impairments of your other motor functions?” she asked as she watched his face and continued slow and steady strokes. Mulder shook his head. “Do you feel shortness of breath? Have you got an elevated temperature?”

“That’s hard to ascertain while you’re doing that but please dear god don’t stop,” he moaned.

Scully put her free hand on his forehead. “I don’t _think_ you have a fever.”

“You’re toying with me now,” he groaned and his hands gripped her arms.

Scully released his cock and pulled his face down for a kiss. When their lips parted, she smiled at him. “I wouldn’t tease and not promise to follow through.”

“Have I told you how much I appreciate your dedication to an outcome?” he said with a low growl in his voice.

His hands gripped at her backside and he pulled her up into his arms. He spun her around and walked her four steps to the dresser where he set her on the top next to the jewellery box that held her mother’s necklace.

“Here,” he told her as he lined up their sexes.

“Yes,” she breathed and looked down to where the head of his cock was pushing against her swollen lips of her sex.

As she tilted her hips to allow him better access, they watched as he slowly pushed inside. There was a small twinge of pain as he reached the hilt and she told herself that they would need to take a few days of respite after this. For now, her body was pushing past the small discomfort and reaching for the release that came with his touch.

“Scully you feel so good,” he breathed as her walls adjusted around him.

How they found themselves needing each other in the last few weeks had been fervent and frantic. She found herself needing his touch during an emotionally trying time. His presence at her side through the loss of her mother, while she tried to push herself to work regardless of the empty cavern of heartache she felt.

While she was trying to push through the confusion of emotions of shock and loss, she felt the heat of his body walking too close behind her and the obvious yearning he felt for her. Admittedly, she was aware her vulnerability and pain weren’t a catalyst for his attraction and desire but she knew it was there before the loss of her mother. Their geography of adjoining rooms with high emotions and the obvious yearning to reconcile tore down her sensibility. She practically threw herself at him and could admit now that she felt grateful for his restraint.

Even though she wanted him to distract her, she hadn’t committed to coming back home. She knew how unfair her actions had been but her heart was in too much turmoil to settle on a choice. She knew eventually it would be him but her heart had fears.

Those fears were quelled when he touched, kissed and helped her find release. The worries of their future stopped as he spoke with her in quiet moments as they lay naked in bed and he confessed the error of his ways. They way they fell back into good patterns when life wasn’t barricading the door and yelling about a falling sky.

As he pulled back slightly and held her on top of the dresser, she remembered how easy it had become lost in these moments. If their passion had dwindled in the slightest, their reconciliation would have been entirely different. They would have worked at it in other ways instead of repeatedly falling into bed with each other time and time again while simultaneously avoiding issues they should be working through.

“Scully,” he whispered as his cock reached the hilt again.

The twinge of pain she first felt was subdued and she felt sparks inside as the beginnings of an orgasm were slowly burning. It was a fire she welcomed to be engulfed by. His touch made her skin feel hot and goosebumps raise up on untouched places.

Her forearms flexed as she gripped the edge of the dresser and her fingernails scratched on the varnish.

“I love you,” he growled as his hips began pumping at a steady pace.

She spread her thighs further and each thrust of his pelvis rubbed at her clit and she moaned at the friction they were creating with their bodies. It wasn’t the same as a skilled hand or his talented tongue but it might have the same outcome.

It was the rare time she was able to come by just this and he knew that. Mulder wouldn’t use her to his own gain and leave her wanting. She knew that much and revelled in the sensations as his body pushed on.

His mouth brushed against her cheek and his breath was hot in her ear. “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”

It wasn’t a challenge of their relationship. It was about how her body needed more to reach a release.

“No,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

Mulder pulled out from her quickly and sunk to his knees. Her legs were still spread for him and she was perched on the edge of the dresser. His mouth found her sex immediately and his tongue made contact with her clit.

“Oh!” she cried out and her fingers gripped the hair at the top of his head.

A flattened tongue pushed against her bundle of her nerves and two of his long fingers slipped under his mouth and inside her tight walls.

Scully cried out again, this time calling his name to the ceiling above her and hoping that her upstairs neighbours went out on Saturdays. Footsteps above her echoed out as her breath came in short pants and she heard Mulder moan against her sex. His free hand was stroking his cock that was slick with her arousal as he lapped at her. Another jolt shocked through her belly as she glanced down to see his arm moving quickly.

“You taste so good, Scully,” he whispered against her swollen lips before his tongue began making small circles.

Scully could only grunt as her nerves ignited and a small inferno began to spread through her. He was moving one finger against the front wall of her pussy while the other pushed against her cervix. The onslaught of too much at once began and her body responded happily with a rush of excitement. Her release would be intense even though parts of her anatomy felt twinges of soreness from the overzealousness of Mulder’s desire.

Small shocks deep inside her where Mulder was pushing with his fingers began to fire inside her. Each time she felt closer and closer to a release and the sound of her moans filled the quiet of her room.

His tongue softened it’s touch as her inner lips swelled and Mulder dragged his bottom teeth along the sensitive nerves.

“Fuck!” she cried out.

Another full-mouthed kiss at her sex and his thumb pushed on her clit as his tongue moved down to where she was craving the roughness of his mouth.

“Oh!” she moaned. “Oh god!”

His tongue pushed and suddenly she found herself in the inferno of her full engulfment of the flames of her passion. It was spreading up her abdomen and into the nerves of her breasts. Her nipples ached to the point of pain until her free hand grabbed at each one. They needed to be touched as much as she wanted something inside her.

“Mulder!” she cried out as the rush of it all took over. “I need you! Inside… fuck me… Mulder please!”

In a move that was swift for a man his age, he pulled her down off the dresser and onto his awaiting dick. His feet were planted firmly on the floor against her dresser and his head was close to the end of the bed. It wasn’t the most ideal place but they were too far gone to fuck on the bed now. She collapsed onto his chest, shuddering through her orgasm. Mulder pushed her up to lay back against his thighs and flexed his hips up.

“Fuck!” they cried out together as her walls clenched around him.

Scully looked down her body to Mulder under her and she saw him looking to where their bodies were joined. He held on to her thighs and his fingers dug into her with the same force as her sex gripped his dick.

When it occurred to her to start moving, Scully began pulling her hips up and down almost erratically. The slack jaw Mulder was sporting and the grunting as she hit his lap on the downstroke implied that he didn’t mind. His eyes were flitting back and forth between watching her breasts and watching as he disappeared inside of her.

Normally, she liked to watch too but she was appreciating watching Mulder’s face right now. Over the years, she had seen him in many different states of ecstasy but for some reason this meant something else. It was unlike their first time after seven years of looking and longing at a rental cottage on Kent Island. It wasn’t like the night they conceived William when she decided she was ready to put her past behind her and choose Mulder for her future. It wasn’t like the first night they had together after he awoke from the dead and she was full of child, round everywhere and extremely pliable to his touch. This was reconciliation and commitment. This was more akin to the night they spent together after declaring yes to marriage on a sandy beach. It was passionate and raw but there was so much else.

“Fuck, Scully,” he growled as his hands slid up her hips and stilled them to his body.

“Wha-” she started but he was flipping her underneath him before the syllable was finished. “Oh!”

His thrusts were hard and she was moving across the rug with each push of his hips. She reached one hand up to stop her from hitting her head against the footboard of the bed and she felt the soft carpet under her backside. In all the years she had that apartment, she didn’t think she had ever had sex on the floor of it with Mulder. He had been there only a few times. He treated the space as something to be wary of but once inside, he let loose the burning desire he held on to while calling her his wife in her ear. Whispering her given name as he fucked her hard in different positions left her wishing their estrangement was someone else’s problem.

“You feel so good,” he panted. “I love you.”

Suddenly she felt uneasy about his health and worried the perspiration on his brow was from something other than his exertion to their love making.

“Touch yourself,” he grunted as he took her hand to slide it between them.

That was more of an indication he was feeling okay but her eyes glanced over to the red mark on his chest.

“Don’t look at that,” he said sternly and her eyes shot up to meet his. “Watch my face and grab your breasts.”

Scully used the hand not holding her from hitting her head to put one hand on her breast. It felt bigger in her hand than it did in Mulder’s but neither of them complained. Her nipples ached and she grabbed one then the other to appease the sensation.

“Touch your clit,” he told her. “I want to feel you come while I’m coming.”

If they were in the office and he was ordering her around, it would make her frustrated to the point of being livid but while they were in bed, or the floor in this case, it drove her crazy.

“ _Scully_ ,” he said in the stern tone again.

She put one finger in his mouth to moisten the pad and slipped her hand between them. The action was unnecessary since she was so wet and it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t required for what they were doing.

“Ohhhhh god,” she groaned as she swiped across the nerves at her centre once and then twice.

“Yeah,” he growled.

His hips sped up and he kept his stomach at an angle away from her so she had the access she needed.

It wouldn’t take much and if she used the swelling of her labia minora - the only way her medical mind could describe it without saying cunt - and suddenly the thought of that word sent a spark through her.

“What?” Mulder asked after obviously noticing a jolt.

“Just… oh god….”

His hips pushed harder. “What?”

“Sometimes just thinking… oh god… thinking the word my cunt and your cock makes me almost come,” she confessed.

“It’s almost enough to hear it,” he agreed. His thrusts became hard and fast as he slid in and out of her. “ _Fuck_.”

“Almost,” she whispered and looked down to watch them.

Mulder’s head dipped and he took her left nipple in his mouth to bite at the nub. It was the thing she needed and she was flying. This was long, hard and exquisite as she felt herself coming apart.

“I-” she started but her voice caught in her throat. “ _Oh_!”

He released her nipple with a pop and began moving harder. If she could split in two from the force, she might but her body held out as it clenched around him. It hurt as much as it felt intense in the ways she wanted.

He shouted her name along with a number of expletives before collapsing on top of her.

They grunted as his body pushed against hers and she felt a small trickle of fluid threaten to escape.

“Your cunt?” he said as he pulled his face up to watch her.

She felt her cheeks flush a little. “Not refined talk for a doctor and FBI Agent, I’m sure.”

“You’ve said them to me before,” he reminded her and kissed her cheek. “Usually it’s me doing all the dirty talking or at least I have to be using my mouth in some other ways.”

“Oh-kay,” she said, trying to move past her embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Dana,” he assured her. “We’re married now.”

Scully gave him a look that said a lot of shut up and stop talking but he merely laughed.

“Okay then, F-”

“I’m up,” he said quickly and pulled out quickly to grab a tissue from the box on the dresser.

He held his hand out to take the soiled tissues and then another to help her up. He stumbled slightly on his way to the bathroom and she decided she should actually do his vitals to ensure the rash on his chest wasn’t anything to be concerned about.

As she cleaned herself up in the bathroom, he found a tube of Polysporin.

“Can I use this?” he asked. “On the thing on my chest?”

“ _I’ll_ do it,” she said as she washed her hands. “I want to look at it in the light by the window.”

“I probably just scraped it on something during my trip on placebo mushrooms,” Mulder assured her.

The look on her face said she didn’t care and he held up his hands to allow her to examine him properly.

“Whatever you want, Doc,” he acquiesce.

“Damn right, whatever I want,” she muttered as she pulled out a pair of latex gloves from her medicine cabinet. She snapped one on. “Bend over.”

Mulder’s eyes widened and she couldn’t keep a straight face for long. She burst out laughing and Mulder chased her into the bedroom, naked while she jumped over the pile of their clothes and into the kitchen where he finally cornered her.

“What are you going to do?” she asked from one side of the table.

“I’m going to… make you bend over,” he decided and glanced down between them.

Scully’s eyes travelled to where his were gesturing to see the half-hardened flesh between his legs. “I need a break.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and left her in the kitchen to contemplate his virile anatomy for a moment before she following him to examine his inexplicable injury.

And maybe the fooled around a little before going back to unpacking.

 

  
***

 

**September 12, 2015**

Tad O’Malley pulled up in front of the Georgetown Regency Apartment Building in his two-door Tesla rather than a limo. The applied intent was obviously to convey he was not a man who needed a chauffeur and could rely on his own merits.

When Dana Scully exited the lobby of her building to see him parked facing the opposite way of traffic, she closed her eyes and willed herself to try. The whole point to going on these excursions and meeting new people was to expand her social circle from one possessive man, her mother and coworkers to many, like the rest of civilized society.

“Dana,” he greeted and she wondered how long he debated on flowers or a flourish before he decided on just the car and pick up.

They had several dates under their belt, a kiss on the cheek and a soft but tentative kiss on the lips after their fourth. They discussed jobs, their futures, their lives outside of work. For her, it was sharing her work that filled the void that she had felt since leaving Mulder.

On their fifth date, he brazenly asked her about kids and her future. She was about to celebrate her fifty-second birthday in February so children was a far off dream.

“Didn’t you want children?” he asked and she anticipated he knew more than he was letting on. “After you left the FBI?”

“I can’t…” she said. “I mean, after all that happened in my job…”

How does someone explain they were kidnapped by aliens, her ova stolen and after cancer and a failed IVF attempt that she became pregnant with her estranged husband’s miracle child? He wasn’t estranged at the time, nor was he her husband. He was her partner with the FBI as they fought to uncover truths about the government conspiracy to disguise the existence of extra-terrestrials and prove their work in the paranormal with her science and his theories.

Even for what she knew of Tad, explaining that to him would make her sound mad. Her even tone while telling it might make her come off as a dissociative psychopath or liar and as much as she wasn’t thinking about her life with other men, her future locked up in a hospital full of a cocktail of calming narcotics wasn’t something she hoped for either.

Tad, being seven years her junior, should be settling down with a woman ten years his junior to have children with. She pointed out if he courted a woman for a year before children, he would be in his sixties when they left the home for college. Tad, being a man of vanity rather than numbers, winced at the math and said nonchalantly said he was a dog person instead.

Later on that night, as the bill arrived and Tad made the grand gesture of picking up the tab, he told her that he had thought she had a son.

“I did,” Scully replied quietly.

“Your partner… your ex?” he asked delicately but pushing forward. For a Republican journalist, the man had some tact and she appreciated that. “Was he… is he the father?”

“Yes,” she replied solemnly and vowed if she ever was asked on another date again in her entire life, not to discuss William or Mulder.

The whole scenario couldn’t be explained without making her sound nuts and no one would understand all she went through to make the decision to give him up. Who could? Only Fox Mulder would be able to tell her she did the right thing but even then, she could hear the resentment in his voice trickling in through the cracks of their relationship like a drip of water through a giant walled dam. There was no Dutch boy to stop the leak.

Mulder would remind her on countless occasions the resentment was something she was putting on herself and not an issue he had with her. It didn’t matter at the time. She added it to the list of things she had done wrong in his eyes and it added to the insurmountable guilt she felt over wanting to leave.

“Dana?” Tad asked and she raised her eyebrows in question. “Do you… you know if you wanted to find him… I could help.”

The idea to find William had come up continuously but asking someone from the outside like Tad, who had romantic intentions towards her… it felt wrong. However, it did not feel wrong enough to quell the desire to reconnect with William. After all these years, she needed to know he was okay. After all this time, she had to know that her son understood she did the right thing.

Dana opened her mouth and then closed it as she looked off to contemplate the offer. “How did you know?”

“I don’t want to give you a speech about how I make it my business to know the business of others but I had someone pull a file on you,” Tad admitted. He took a long drink from the merlot in his stemmed glass and set it on the table carefully. “I know it’s presumptuous. After we met… I wanted to know everything about you.”

“You could have just _asked_ me,” she reminded him.

He nodded sheepishly and it was the first sign of humility she had seen in him since this whole song and dance began. It was human, not pompous, and a little aware of himself.

“I suppose I wanted to know what I was up against,” he replied and smiled at her.

His eyes were taking in the black dress she had donned before their date. It was fitted, came to mid-thigh and had lace at the capped sleeves. The high neckline didn’t say ‘woman on the prowl’ however it was very form fitted. There was no hiding anything in that number and when she bought it, it was with the intention of wearing it to dinner with Mulder on their anniversary.

What did it say about her that she was wearing it on a date with another man four days shy of that commemoration?

If she didn’t know anything about their situation, Dana Scully ten years ago would have judged a woman in her position. After all the pain and loss that Mulder and Scully went through, she understood more about reactionary decisions and motives towards healing.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Scully said after a while as they sipped on their decaf cappuccinos. “This feels wrong… considering…”

“That you’re still married?” Tad offered.

Scully hesitated to answer and looked down at her hands. It was strange to feel shame and frustration about something related to Mulder.

“Is the tether _emotional_ or just legal?

“I don’t know if you can ever untether yourself after twenty years and all we’ve lost,” she said with a sigh and decided her date with Rob the most boring tax accountant probably had a better time than Tad was having right now. “It’s not like you can just un-live those memories.”

“We should go for a walk,” Tad suggested and for some reason, Scully agreed.

He wrapped his coat around her shoulders as they walked along the Washington Mall and he told her how he wasn’t trying to replace or change anything in her past. He said he wanted to do his job, right the wrongs the government had committed and call out injustice. He knew how that sounded and they shared a quiet laugh.

“If you’re serious about wanting to find your son, let me know,” he said as they approached her building. “I have resources and friends that can help in these situations. Delicately.”

She decided he could walk her in and refrained from handing back his jacket when they reached her door. Tad followed inside quietly and kissed her confidently as the hinge swung open to her apartment.

It shocked her that she liked it and even more so that she wanted him to do it again. It shook every ounce of her moral code to commit adultery but her mind wasn’t thinking of vows and commitments with Tad. Her heart was trying to find a respite from all the terrible things that had been said between two people who were so broken they stopped trying to build each other up.

When the kiss ended at her door and she looked into his eyes, the hunger of a man who wanted to know her body more intimately stared back at her.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he offered.

Dana appreciated the restraint and went into her apartment to shed her fancy dress, slid into a hot bath and cried for a solid thirty minutes.

Before her life changed again, the idea to find William had been weighing heavily on her heart. With her limited resources, she wasn’t sure how to make this idea into a reality but she spent too many nights dreaming of him. Sometimes she thought she saw him in her dreams as she struggled to fall more of a more restful sleep. He was tall for his age with blue eyes, chestnut brown hair and staring at her from across a field. It was never a dream of a happy reunion but something more ominous approaching and she always awoke with a feeling of dread.

 

*** ***

 

**July 11, 2016**

 

Four days into their nine days of bliss, Scully received a call from Tad O’Malley. She thought she had heard the last of him when he was forced off the air six weeks ago. He had promised her he could find William but it was a promise she brushed off as a ploy to get into her bed.

“I’m a journalist and well connected, Dana,” Tad practically bragged. “If your son is out there, I can find him.”

“If you knew me-” she started.

“I know,” he cut her off. “You’ll believe it when you see it, right?”

It was one of the last times they met with each other before Scully went back to work with Mulder on the X-Files. Tad sent flowers that held cryptic card promises of “I will make good on my word, xo T” and for a week her coffee was purchased for her ahead of time at her local stop before work.

She knew the game he was playing, the extravagance and attention but it wasn’t welcomed. Thankfully, he stopped shortly after Scully came home from Oregon with Daggoo. Mulder, usually inquisitive to outsider interest in her, had ignored most of this attention over the last two months.

“Hello?” she answered as she parked her car in the parkade near the Hoover Building.

“Dana?” a familiar voice asked.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Tad O’Malley,” he said with a tone that implied she should remember.

Maybe she should know but telephones were never promising for her when recognizing voices.

“What can I do for you, Mr. O’Malley?” she asked.

“ _Dana_ ,” he started and it was clearly going to be an admonishment for using such professional language.

They had kissed more than a few times. The least she could do was call him by his first name.

“Tad?” she asked in a tone that was slightly sassy.

“I have some information on your son,” he began and a loud screech cut out the phone.

Scully’s heart began to pound in her chest. What information would he be able to unearth?

“Tad?” she called into the receiver. “Tad!”

There were clicks and a loud high-pitched screech that made her hold the phone away from her ear. Whatever was going on at his end of the line didn’t sound promising for him.

She heard another series of clicks, a buzz and then Tad’s voice slowly became louder. “Dana. He’s in C-” * _screech_!* “Wyoming.”

“William?” she tried to clarify. “What the hell is going on? Tad?”

Wyoming wasn’t heavily populated and there had to be maybe ten towns that began with a C. She could narrow that down if she had to but she needed to know.

“His last name-” Tad whispered into the phone.

“Wait-” Scully said and she braced herself for the information.

This wasn’t anything she ever thought she would hear. Confirmation William was alive and living in the West.

“Dana!” Tad said quickly. “His name is Van de Kamp.”

The line cut out and she was left sitting in her SUV with the phone in her shaking hand. She needed to tell Mulder what just happened but there was a worry he would find the source of the call to be problematic. She was trying to decide if she should wait until she knew more before bringing it up.

She sat in her car a few minutes longer and pulled the quarter on the necklace of her mother’s from her glove box and played with charm to ask her mother for guidance.

Finally summoning the strength, she put her hand on the car door and opened the latch to find him in their office. At the very least, she had a lead on William.

 


	19. The Wolf at the Door

The sound of the pencil sharpener whining as it swirled the metal blades inside the encasement filled the office. Mulder pulled the pointed number two pencil from the small hole and blew the shavings off the lead tip.

He braced himself to hear Scully’s heels down the hall but heard nothing. Another dulled pencil went into the hole and the whirling of the electric sharpener rang through the office again.

**_*Weeeeeeee !* *Weeeeeeeeeeeee!*_ **

The pencil came in front of his eyeline to be examined and he found himself having trouble focusing on the tip. He blinked his eyes slowly a few times and wiped at his brow that he hadn’t realized was perspiring.

Pushing the pencils away from him on the blotter, he laid his head down to try to breathe through the wave of dizziness that was overwhelming him. Scully would be there soon and if he was too sick, she would send him home. If she sent him home, their joint search for William would be put on pause again.

He had yet to tell her he discovered the name Van de Kamp and how it was a connection to William’s adoption papers. Mostly what they had done was begin to search for the name of the agent working on Scully’s private adoption because that had been kept from her too. At the time it was prudent for the safety of William and Scully.

Twenty years ago, he would have the Gunmen hack adoption agencies and tell them what they knew about the drop off. Today, he had contacts to help dig deeper but to really move forward, he and Scully had to work together. That part might be tricky.

William’s birthday, Mother’s Day and the day Scully found out she was pregnant with their miracle child would be particularly tough days for her. The anniversary of the day Scully gave William over to Langly, Byers and Frohike was almost worse. While they were on the run, any of these days could be emotional landmines for them. Looking for their son could be another emotional obstacle course of poignant and trying turbulence between them. He hoped if they could make it through the last four years and reconcile, they could work through the heartache they felt to try to find their son. A lot of old wounds threatened to be opened but Mulder was willing to risk that hurt if it meant closure.

How was Scully to know that having a child would be a dangerous adventure? Most people, when choosing to have a baby together, don’t have to worry about consortiums and syndicates lurking to destroy their happiness but then again, Mulder and Scully’s lives were far from most people.

When he first began his search a year ago, it wasn’t out of spite or frustration. He felt he lost Scully and wanted a piece of her back. Before they reconciled, he had visions in his mind of this grand gesture of presenting her with their son. In his thoughts, maybe it was obvious but it would have to open the door to a conversation between them instead of whatever they were doing before that wasn’t emotionally healthy.

Mulder pulled his head off the desk and took a drink from the bottle of water on the edge of his workspace. The water was warm in his mouth and he looked at the lipstick on the rim. It must have been one of Scully’s and he shrugged before taking another sip. He grabbed two tissues from the cube on the corner of the desk.

 _Swish, swish_.

He dabbed at his brow and across his upper lip before taking another sip of water just as the phone rang on the corner of his desk.

“Mulder,” he answered.

“It’s me,” Scully introduced. “I’m just leaving the hospital.”

Mulder smiled to himself. No one else in his life had ever called him up and said ‘it’s me’ in a way that he automatically recognized as intimate and possessive to the other person. Once he said ‘hi me, it’s also me’ and he could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone.

“How’s your patient?” he asked with as much concern as he could muster at the time.

“Good,” she said distractedly and he wondered if she was reapplying lipstick before turning on her car. “Evan’s surgery went well but there’s always a fear of post-op complications.”

“Were there?”

She sighed as the engine turned over on her SUV. “His skin isn’t rejecting the prosthetics and he’s showing no signs of infection.”

Mulder nodded even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “That’s good news.”

“In six months, no one would be able to tell he was born any different,” Scully continued. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know where I was.”

“Reporting to the head of your department while away from work,” Mulder noted and clicked a pen into the receiver so she could hear it. “I’m making a note in today’s work log and giving you a star.”

“You’re still subscribing to the notion that you’re my superior?” Scully asked and he could practically hear her eyebrow arching through the phone.

“I’m the _senior_ agent,” he told her. “Biologically and technically.”

Scully chuffed a laugh. “See you in a bit.”

Mulder hung up the phone and took another sip of water. The wave of nausea passed and the sweating stopped as the water cooled his throat and hit his stomach.

He ate scrambled eggs and toast with his first cup of coffee. He followed up that with a banana and granola in yogurt with his second cup while Scully picked at two poached eggs and a slice of toast. They shared some cantaloupe and she kissed him with a lingering brush against him in their doorway that made him get half-hard for her.

He thought back to the conversation where Scully confirmed slashed confessed her situation with Thaddeus (Tad) O’Malley. He couldn’t blame her for wanting a situation that didn’t have landmines but he knew damned well that neither of them could be with anyone who didn’t intimately know those problematic and sensitive spots. There was far too much emotional, physical and long-term damage done.

Part of him argued they had made a cuckold of him during the first joint meeting with O’Malley and Scully, however, his curiosity into what O’Malley was proposing overtook that feeling. He didn’t try to imagine how that must have felt for Scully because, at the time, he hoped she was as uncomfortable as possible. At least that meant she still felt something for him.

Except he couldn’t remain too upset about the history between his wife and this contact because of all that Tad was offering as he escorted them around in an armoured limo and offered them champagne early in the day. That gesture alone reassured Mulder that Tad knew nothing about Scully because as a personal rule, Dana Scully wouldn’t touch alcohol before three p.m. Mulder felt confident in using Tad as a contact and stopped seeing him as a threat after that.

She had to drive in to Our Lady of Sorrow’s D.C. hospital to check on a patient she was still treating before returning to the FBI so they would be going into work separately.

She still held privileges there and liked to go in and see how some of the patients she had helped were doing. The last child she operated on had asked for her that weekend with his surgeon and she agreed to go in and do his post-operation check-up.

Mulder didn’t blame the children she treated for being drawn to Scully. She wasn’t cold, distant, rigid or heartless like so many people inaccurately characterized her. She was warm, giving, kind and sweet-natured. She was nurturing in so many ways beyond being a doctor and children were often drawn to her.

It was hard for her when she began working at the pediatric wing at Our Lady of Sorrow’s when they first settled in the Virginia/D.C. area. Mulder accused her of paying some kind of penance for what happened with William but when the children were on the mend, when the children got better and the parents thanked her, he realized she was trying to correct a wrong in God’s plan.

It was the rebellious nature in Scully, trying to outsmart and out-science a God that would create a baby and then take it away from its mother’s arms before maturity. Mulder admired all of these traits about her as much as he admired her ass. And he really loved her ass.

For as long as Mulder had been in love with her, his emotional and physical desires were linked. When the trust was built between them and their friendship grew, his physical desires for her became something he could no longer deny. While it was usually a characteristic put on women, Mulder was a man tied to the emotional reaction he had towards a woman. His appreciation for porn was completely separate from this since his optical senses took in what it did to create a physical reaction for his body. It was hollow compared to the surge of attraction he felt for Scully, especially after he realized he was in love with her.

It was the thought that Scully would be arriving any minute, so he needed to be well when she arrived. He was trying to downplay his symptoms to prevent her from ordering him to go home and rest. He had rested for years and now was the time to work. This action was unlike Mulder who used to present every paper cut and bruise to her so she could fuss over him. He got a thrill when she took care of him through their partnership.

After a while, he realized just how hot he thought she was in scrubs. There was something to be said for a woman using a stethoscope while trying to ascertain his symptoms or looking at things under a microscope. He liked the smart, passionate and capable side of her. This was after he learned to trust her and realized how dedicated she was to their work. She had proven herself time and time again as a dedicated part of the team and his friend.

The part of Dana Scully that Mulder fell in love with first was her mind. Any time she opened her mouth to show just how brilliant she really was, his mental and intellectual equal, he fell for her just a little harder. Then her intellect became a source of physical attraction and not just a fondness. The first time she looked at him over her glasses while she explained how much he _didn’t_ know about mitochondria in cells as they related so-called shape-shifting animals, he couldn’t stand up for ten minutes.

It’s not like he felt proud of those embarrassing moments of lust that surged on when they were trying to argue theories. At first, he felt ashamed, frustrated and disgusted with himself. Then he learned to clear his throat, challenge what he could back and focus on what she was saying instead of the perverse ideas running rampant in his consciousness while she tried to show him the actual science to what he was proposing.

That’s not to say that Mulder was oblivious to how Scully looked. He saw, he had eyes like every other person and felt the draw to her physical beauty. He spent the first few years of their partnership trying to ignore how she looked in hopes of maintaining their friendship over anything else that in his personal experience could be fleeting. He knew now that he couldn’t help falling in love with her and hindsight being what it was, it was inevitable he would.

When she asked him to help her have a baby, he couldn’t help but say yes. He wanted to be part of the best parts of her life and a child would be another extension of that. It was a big gamble to try to have a child together when they were not quite assured of themselves as a couple. There was a lot at stake with their work but he knew he had to put something else, someone else, as a priority. As Mulder thought about abusing the tools at his disposal from his position at the FBI, he understood that once again, what she wanted would be worth the risk.

His mind wandered to the failures they endured through IVF and then to the success of good-old-fashioned biology. Mulder, had he not been abducted by aliens, missed out on three months of boasting about having magical sperm. The joke wasn’t as timely when he was brought back from the dead and they had to adjust to being them again.

These days, their adjusting had gone fairly well. If finding William was going to be an upset to that copacetic tone things had taken, he was willing to risk that if it meant making her happy.

“Mulder?” Scully called from the doorway and took in his appearance as his eyes focused on her frame. She sounded worried and he wiped a hand down his face to hide any symptoms of illness. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Scully. Just too much coffee this morning,” he said a forced smile. “I think I just have caffeine jitters.”

He tried to stand up but his knees felt achy.

“Sit down,” she ordered gently and approached him carrying her briefcase and medical bag in each hand. “Nausea?”

Mulder nodded.

She put her hand into her kit and pulled out a thermometer. “Open.”

Scully put a plastic tube over the end of the piece that went into his mouth then stuck the tube under his tongue. She quickly checked her watch and put two fingers on his neck to monitor his pulse.

This was a side of her that was entirely sexy but his motor functions were slightly impeded by his minor brush with illness.

“I’d grope you if I had the energy,” he muttered and she shook her head. “Why not?”

“We’re at work,” she reminded him and looked up with a raised eyebrow. She looked at his face and put one hand on his cheek. “Hmmm. Maybe later.”

“Do I have a fever?” he asked with the thermometer still under his tongue.

Scully pulled the tube from his mouth. “Not quite.”

“Caffeine jitters,” he repeated. “Now lean over the desk so I can admire you in that little skirt.”

“Agent Mulder, that is not the way for the head of a department to treat a subordinate employee,” Skinner admonished from the doorway.

Scully’s face reddened and he anticipated paying for that comment in about fifteen minutes. She cleared her throat as she stood up. “Sir.”

“I might warn you that she could file a harassment suit against your department and the FBI but you’re married,” Skinner continued as he entered the office. “And she makes more money than you.”

“ _Still_?” Mulder asked as Scully crossed her arms and made a disapproving face at him. “The army and FBI wrongfully charged me for a crime I never committed. The FBI doesn’t have a pay bump for that?”

“Her education is still higher than yours,” Skinner answered. “And I believe you received a generous settlement from the federal government in 2008.”

Mulder shrugged and tossed a sharpened pencil expertly into the ceiling tile. He waited for a reaction from Scully and Skinner. They merely fought smiles but he’d take that. It was something.

“Sir, did you come to see us about something?” Scully asked in an obvious attempt to get off the topic of finances. She _hated_ talking about money, which was odd because he never knew the Scully family to struggle financially. “Not that I’m not enjoying watching you give Mulder a hard time.”

Skinner glanced over to Scully and placed a file on Mulder’s desk. “This was the information I could gather from the closed adoption.”

Scully’s reflexes were quicker than Mulder’s and she picked up the file before he could.

“What closed adoption?” she asked as she looked over the brown folder with an FBI seal on the front. “Mine?”

Skinner sat in the only chair opposite the desk as Scully opened the thin file. “It’s not much.”

Mulder stood up and looked over Scully’s shoulder to see the lack of what was supposed to be closure and answers for them. “I’ll say.”

“Mulder,” she warned. Scully let out a slow breath through her nose as she read what was in there.

William’s adoption papers read as follows:

 **Name at birth:** William James Mulder  
**Date of birth:** June 20, 2001  
**Sex:** Male  
**Race:** Caucasian  
**Place of birth:** Democrat Hot Springs, Georgia  
**Name of biological mother:** Dana Katherine Scully  
**Mother’s residence:** Georgetown, Washington D.C.  
**Mother’s Occupation:** Special Agent with Federal Bureau of Investigation  
**Name of biological father:** Fox William Mulder  
**Father’s residence:** Alexandria, Virginia  
**Father’s Occupation:** Former Special Agent with Federal Bureau of Investigation/unemployed  
**Age of child at adoption:** Nine months  
**Marital Status of biological parents at birth:** Unwed

Scully looked up from the file. “This first page is all about us.”

“I didn’t realize Democrat Hot Springs would be listed there,” Mulder noted.

“I thought the hospital I was air-vac’d to would have been on there,” Scully replied quietly.

Mulder reached over and lifted the next sheet of paper to see if anything about William had been brought forth. “Nothing on the Van de Kamps?”

“You found his name?” Scully asked as though there was something she wasn’t telling Mulder.

“I was able to use some of the information Mulder found before we re-opened the X-Files,” Skinner explained.

“I used _less_ than official channels,” Mulder explained with a purse of his lips. Mulder caught something on the next page. “He’s in Wyoming?”

“Possibly. The family who adopted him were living there at the time.” Skinner shook his head. “No one in the state of Wyoming has the last name Van de Kamp or a 16-year-old son William. He would be registered to drive by now and he hasn’t applied for a driver’s license.”

Scully’s frown deepened and she handed Mulder the file. “I appreciate you looking into this for us, sir.”

Skinner stood up from the chair and straightened his tie along his torso. “I’ll keep looking. The agency… um, All God’s Children, hasn’t been the most forthcoming.”

“You chose _All God’s Children_?” Mulder asked quietly to Scully.

“Byers did,” Scully replied. “I wanted something that could send him national and far away.”

Mulder nodded as she put the file back on the blotter. “Thank you.”

Skinner left the office without a new assignment and they listened to his footsteps as they made their way toward the elevator.

Mulder leaned against the desk and pulled Scully by her elbows to stand in front of him between his feet. “Spill the beans.”

She looked down at her shoes and Mulder pulled on her chin with his thumb and forefinger for them to get eye contact.

“Scully?”  
  
“I got a call,” she started hesitantly.

If she was hesitant to tell him about it, there must be a reason and his mind tried to search for why.

“From who?” he asked, “About what?”

“Tad O’Malley,” she answered. “He said he had a lead on William.”

Mulder clenched his jaw and swallowed. “And?”

“More or less what we learned from Skinner. He said that William was in Wyoming,” Scully told him and he watched her face for a sign there was more to the conversation than that. “He told me his last name is Van de Kamp.”

Mulder nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He pursed his lips and crossed his arms as he contemplated that O’Malley was coming forward with this information. Scully pulled his arms down and pinched his lips between her thumb and forefinger.

“Hey,” he said through her finger tips.

She released his mouth and gave him a look. “Don’t think about him.”

‘Him’ was obviously referring to Tad.

“Should I be worried he’s calling you out of the blue? Is it even out of the blue?”

“Mulder,” she admonished but he wasn’t going to let her get off that easily. He held her gaze as silence filled the small space between them. She didn’t pull back or cross her arms to close herself off from him. “He told me he would help me find William.”

“When?” he asked, suddenly worrying now how much the blonde, Republican nightmare knew about her.

Scully was so intensely private that she wouldn’t share her cancer diagnosis with her own brother and yet she was telling a man she went on a few dates with about a son she lost.

“He… he looked into my life when we met,” Scully explained slowly and suddenly Mulder’s blood began to boil. She must have sensed his tension and she put her hands on his biceps and smoothed them down to his hands. “He wanted to know more about me and I guess you too. He told me he could help me find William if I wanted to.”

“Are you certain that was an honest offering?” he asked acerbically. “Not some ploy?”

“I worried about that too,” she admitted and looked down from his face to a spot on his tie. “I’m still curious how he can help us.”

Mulder released one of her hands to tilt her chin up to look her in the eye. “Hey.”

“His intentions wouldn’t change the outcome and how I feel,” she told him quietly. “I wouldn’t be interested in anything other than the information he was able to gather for us.”

“I appreciate that you said us,” he told her and she smiled slightly. “Okay, so I could call Tad and see if the offer had a noble intent or something untoward.”

She looked appeased. “You would?”

“Why do you sound so relieved?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I just don’t want to expose myself to more situations that he might misinterpret as romantic.”

Mulder nodded. “I know it doesn’t need to be said but I do trust you to go talk to him.”

“I know,” she said. “I just…”

“What, Scully?” he asked.

“I would do anything to find William but I don’t want to be in a position to have to do anything,” she replied and Mulder nodded slowly. “Not that I think O’Malley would go that far…”

He let out a long breath. “I guess we’ll see when I call him to meet me.”

“Where are you going to ask him to meet you?” Scully asked. He hesitated to answer and she gave him a look. “Me knowing less about these things isn’t the best idea.”

Mulder conceded. “Maybe out at the house?”

She nodded in agreement it would be a good place and they left it at that. Their internal line rang and VCU director A.D. Spence asked for a consultation that required both of them.

Mulder pulled his shirt sleeves down and donned his suit jacket as Scully waited for him at the door. “Ready, G-Woman?”

“If you’re up for it,” she noted as she took in his appearance.

“I’m feeling fine and fresh,” he told her. “Like I said, caffeine jitters.”

“After you, _Sir_ ,” she teased with a smile playing on her lips.

“I was going to say watch it but I kind of like that,” he replied with a grin as he closed the door behind them.

As they walked towards, the elevator doors, she reached behind him and pinched his backside.

“ _Hey_!”

“That’s for the desk comment Skinner walked in on,” she said with a well-manicured nail pointing at him.

“Fair enough,” he said.

Scully pinched the other cheek.

“Hey!”

She laughed. “That’s because you have a squeezable ass.”

“Don’t say ass while we’re at work or I’ll take you back into that office-”

The doors dinged open and their conversation halted in preparation for not being alone. The car was empty and Scully pushed the button for the ninth floor.

“And you’ll what?”

“At the risk of sounding like… myself… I don’t want to finish that thought in case this elevator car has a hot mic,” he explained.

Scully shook her head with a full smile that showed her gums. Mulder loved that smile.

“You can tell me later then.”

 

**** **** ****

 

The phone rang three times before it clicked twice and the line went dead. Mulder checked the number Tad O’Malley had written on the back of a business card upon their first meeting. He showed Mulder a site where they were experimenting with alien technology and his eyes couldn’t help being wide with wonder as though he was witnessing an actual first contact at Area 51.

What he saw was fleeting. The ship and centre had been burned in a fire and as usual, hope for proof in his hands slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

Mulder swore under his breath and dialled the number again on his cell phone.

The other line rang twice then a voice through a scrambler answered. “Yes.”

“I’m looking for Tad O’Malley,” Mulder said hesitantly.

“Hold please,” the voice replied curtly and the line was silent for longer than Mulder thought was necessary.

This was like placing a call to the syndicate when his father, the son of a bitch he knew as CGB Spender, was working alongside other sons of bitches to destroy humanity and save themselves.

“Tad O’Malley. What can I do for you, Mr. Mulder?” O’Malley greeted.

Mulder was silent for a moment as he wondered how he knew it was the recently reinstated Fox Mulder on the other end of the line.

“Maybe I should say Special Agent Mulder,” O’Malley continued and Mulder pictured him petting a white, long-haired cat in a deep chair with a wicked smile on his face. “How can I help you?”

“You called Sc- you called Dana,” Mulder began and felt angry at tripping over a way to identify the woman he knew better than the man on the phone. “About-”

“Your son,” O’Malley finished. “She told you.”

“She was pretty shaken up,” Mulder said but regretted sharing it since he knew Scully only wanted people to see the strength in her. Maybe she wouldn’t mind since it was someone she spent time with but Mulder doubted that.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” O’Malley attempted to reassure Mulder but he wasn’t completely convinced. “I was having issues with my service this morning while we worked to get the bugs out.”

“Have you?” Mulder asked as he spat another sunflower shell onto the steps of the porch of the house.

He would have to sweep the steps before Scully came by that night to discuss the phone call with their Truth Squad contact. He added that to the mental list of chores along with dust the mantel and vacuum the living room carpet.

Simple things like using Pledge on surfaces reassured the woman he loved that he was trying and he tried to show that effort in every way. He wasn’t afraid of losing her, he was afraid of being a man who could lose himself and everything else. That fear was a powerful motivator to stay on the right path because she was worth it.

“It was a little dramatic but we have a secure line now,” O’Malley assured Mulder, pulling him out of the wandering of his mind.

He was cautious to bring up why he was calling Scully after he was sure that O’Malley knew they were trying to reconcile. Maybe he didn’t and his intel on Scully wasn’t as thorough as Scully thought.

“We found out the same information through our channels,” Mulder said matter of factly.

“I didn’t give Dana all the information,” he replied with the same tone. “I _am_ willing to share.”

He really hoped that wasn’t a euphemism for something else.

“Can you meet me?” Mulder requested.

“Just name the place,” O’Malley agreed.

Mulder hung up the phone and looked around the porch for the corn broom that Scully insisted be a fixture near the chairs. Her distaste for dusty floors and debris at doorways was well known to him and it took a few minutes every day to prevent that.

As he sat on the porch with the sun shining on his face, he thought back to their Saturday afternoon.

They were lying on the blanket in the grass near the back of the house and the sun was still shining as Mulder read the crossword and Scully finished her book. The sundress she had on dipped lower down her back and he could see new freckles forming from their day outside.

They weeded the front lawn, Mulder rode the mower around and tidied up the space to look more presentable while Scully planted tulips and daisies at the front of the house. They were planning for next spring and Mulder called them little seeds of hope. She quickly pointed out they were bulbs and not seeds which earned her a squeeze on the backside from Mulder.

Sunday they arranged for a truck to lay down a better path for a proper driveway and Scully would finally stop complaining about the gravel that kicked up and dirtied her car. She hated the dust that gathered on the front porch and crept into the house.

He held the pen between his teeth as he studied his paper and looked down to Scully’s sun-kissed skin.

“I see Cassiopeia,” he said.

“Is that a clue?” she asked without looking up from her book.

“No, it’s a new constellation on your shoulder,” Mulder replied and took the pen to her skin. He traced the darkened freckles up and down before tilting his head. “Your upper arm has Orion’s Belt.”

Scully allowed him to trace two more on her arm before she said that was enough and took the pen from him. She sat up and turned to Mulder and saw only a more brown tone to his skin versus the freckles and pink hue she got from her time outside.

“ _Oh_ I see one,” Scully said suddenly and climbed on top of his lap, taking the pen to draw a twirly moustache. Of course, she only managed one side before Mulder snatched her wrist in his hand. “Hey, I’m not done!”

“I see what you’re trying to do, Miss Scully,” he countered as he rolled them over so she was trapped underneath him.

Instead of continuing their ink fight, he kissed her properly and soundly. It was deep and soft with all the promise of two people who finally figured out they were better together than apart. He didn’t want to say he always knew it but he did have his doubts. He doubted if they were going to survive all the time but at least he understood they were better together than apart.

“Mulder,” Scully whispered as he kissed along her hairline.

“Yes?” he asked.

“When you asked about Tad…” she started and Mulder held his hand up to stop her. “You wanted to know why it didn’t go any further-”

“You don’t have to,” he told her.

He wanted to know but a large part of him didn’t want to hear it. He knew he was an absolute shit then and there was nothing he could do to change it.

“You once alleged that I had one foot out the door and finally had the excuse to leave,” she reminded him and he felt embarrassed at the accusations he put on her when he was at his lowest point. “I still had one foot in the door with you, even when I moved away.”

She took a wavering breath and he rubbed his hand up her arm reassuringly. He knew these kinds of confessions weren’t easy for her. Emotional outpourings from her were few and far between. Over the years working together, he knew she confessed her sins to her priest but rarely how she felt.

“The time I spent with Tad-”

“I want to make a joke about his name but it’s not a great starting point when your name is _Fox_ , you know?” he interrupted.

“I don’t know if I spent any time with him and not wished it was you and I eating at those places or walking along the Mall,” she told him, ignoring his jibe. “I enjoyed the attention and I know that doesn’t sound like me but it’s the only way I can think to say it.”

“I’ll take you to those places and we can have a do-over,” he promised with a smile. “Like the bowling alley I took you to when you were in remission.”

Mulder had taken her on a series of “dates” before they were considered dates to put some good memories into places they had been to. Lookout points like Skyland Mountain that needed a happier memory and a bowling alley that didn’t remind her of her death. When she realized what he was doing, she told him that she didn’t need a trip to the forest to make up for almost being eaten alive by the mites during their first year together.

“I couldn’t sleep with him,” she confessed and he looked at her questioningly. “We went on… five dates?”

“And he kissed you four times,” he reminded her. “You didn’t want…”

Mulder made an indecipherable gesture between them to signify sex but she narrowed her eyes as though she didn’t understand. He made a face and she widened her eyes.

“ _Oh_!” she said in realization. “ _No_.”

“You didn’t?”

“I felt guilty being around him knowing his intentions were romantic but…” she scrunched her nose as she tried to decide how to continue. “I needed to be Dana. It was a lie I was telling myself but I was exhausted by what the darkness did to both of us. I realized that I couldn’t live in that either.”

“When did that lighting bolt strike you?” he asked.

“You know, Mulder,” she started as she leaned her elbows on her knees. He wondered if there was something she was hiding as she was contemplating her next words. “The kind of man you are is infuriating and frustrating but I am certain I couldn’t be with anyone else.”

Mulder felt a huge sense of relief at that statement. “Yeah?”

“You said I made you whole but you’ve done the same for me. I needed your passion in my life for something otherworldly. We’ve discovered and seen so much in our lives that I would have never thought possible,” she told him. “Even as a scientist, I couldn’t deny that just the work was exciting. As a woman… you made me realize it was okay to let people in and rely on others. You were… a constant.”

“Even with my erratic behaviour?” he asked self-deprecatingly.

“I don’t know anyone else who would yell at hospital staff on my behalf or break into medical facilities for me,” she told him gently and they shared a smile. “I made a vow to you to love, honour and cherish what we were. I am sorry I broke it.”

“We both have things we need to make up for,” he said. “To each other and to ourselves.”

She sat up straighter on the blanket and she must have sensed his questioning. She took his hand in hers and squeezed.

“I love you,” she told him and he looked down at her in question. “I love you.”

“I know,” he told her because the second one sounded like a reassurance more than a statement. “I don’t have any ill feelings anymore about what happened.”

Her chin wavered and she let out a quick breath. “I do, though.”

“Do you want to tell me why?” he asked as he moved off of her and sat next to her on the blanket. “Would it make you feel better?”

“I don’t think it would make you-”

“It’s _okay_ ,” he assured her. “I don’t want you stuck in guilt that doesn’t need to be there.”

“You… when I chose to leave…” she started as she sat up. “I was broken too.”

“How?” he asked.

“I think I was hurt by realizing I wasn’t enough,” she told him as she sat up and he felt the air leave his lungs. “I am not saying this to blame you. I worked longer hours and spent more time with my family on my days off… but I was reacting to a feeling of rejection…”

Mulder worried he might cry. The thought in his mind that he could ever rebuff her was unfathomable but he knew that was true. Dana Scully dismissed a shining career in the FBI, respect from her peers, a ladder out of the basement, a path in medicine, the law and her family. Instead, she chose him. Every time, without flinching, she looked at the members of Congress and the Senate, went to jail, fought cancer, stuck her chin up defiantly and chose him.

“I felt like you picked a theory over me,” she confessed and she shook her head. “I should have been fighting for us. Maybe I should have tried harder.”

“Scully…” he started.

“I love you,” she repeated the pronouncement. “I love you, Fox Mulder. For all your theories, wild ideas, antics that get me arrested and pushing me to see truths that lie between the fantastic and what I can explain with science, I love you. I owed us more than to walk out.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he answered simply. He smiled at her and looked around the yard they had worked so hard together on. “I’ve never been able to watch you walk out on me without following you to try to win you back. I probably stood in your way for twenty years to selfishly keep you with me.”

“It wasn’t selfish, Mulder,” she told him. “I know that while it felt like it at the time, I don’t resent any of what we’ve had.”  
  
“Even so,” he began. “I feel like I owed it to myself to stand in your way of something you thought was happiness away from me.”

She chuffed a laugh. “I know it isn’t out there.”

“Maybe I was smart enough to know that,” he mused with a nod of his head.

Scully shook hers and he shook his too. They shared a quiet laugh and he pulled her closer to him on the blanket with his arm around her waist.

“I’ll be more stubborn next time not to let the darkness in,” he promised. “I love you enough not to.”

“We should be realistic about who we are,” she said gently. “You might let the darkness in but we should be smart enough to know we fight it better together.”

“So I might get obsessed with something but you’ll be there to knock some sense into me?” he mused and she nodded. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Mulder?” she said looking up to him with her pink cheeks.

“Hmm?”

“Take me to bed,” she requested. And he did.

 

**** **** ****

 

  
Mulder had spent the afternoon tidying the living spaces, using Pledge to clean the areas that needed it, changing the towels for fresh ones, sweeping the porch and vacuuming the carpets.

He rewarded himself for ninety minutes of work with a cold beer in an amber bottle that had a label he shredded as the beer worked through his system. He popped the top on another one and stuffed the shreds of paper inside the top of the empty bottle.

Scully met him at their house with groceries for dinner and Daggoo in the back seat with his head out the window, enjoying the warm air on his face.

He set his half-empty bottle under the wicker chair that replaced the worn out metal ones since her return. The paint didn’t flake off onto his pants and there was no risk of catching tetanus from the rust-exposed places on the arm rests. The cushions were soft and the woven wood was just as comfortable against his back.

The little things that improved exponentially after her return made him want to be that guy that earned her presence in his life. The guilt he felt over his behaviour was probably a sign of some low-level desolation, however he was able to monitor his own mental health enough to know that his desire to do right by Scully now was what mattered.

The gravel driveway kicked up dirt onto the underside of her SUV and she got out carefully to avoid soiling her trousers on the side of the vehicle with Daggoo closely behind her.

“Hey there, Doc,” Mulder greeted as he approached the vehicle to help with the bags.

“Pork chops and green beans okay?” she asked as she handed one of the reusable bags she kept in the trunk of her vehicle.

“Is there going to be gravy?” Mulder asked and she nodded. He watched as she hopped a little to pull the back of the trunk down. “With mushrooms?”

“If you peek in the bag, you might see some of those in there,” she said as the trunk slammed shut. “Did O’Malley call?”

“We’re going to meet,” he told her. Before she could say anything else, he held up the free hand that wasn’t holding the grocery bag. “I will tell you when I arrange it but right now, just know it’s happening.”

“Why are you trying to keep me in the dark?” she asked as they approached the steps.

“I’m not sure if he’s going to follow through,” he admitted. “He was talking about secure lines and while I’m not one to point fingers, I don’t know how dangerous his situation is.”

Mulder paused on the steps and coughed into his hand. Scully’s palm went to his face and her skin felt cool against his.

“I think you should get into bed while I make dinner,” she advised.

“Are you joining me?” he leered as they continued up the stairs to the front door.

“Not a chance,” she said quickly. “You’re going to rest. Sex isn’t rest.”

Mulder frowned but accepted Scully’s advice anyway on a condition. They shed their shoes and Daggoo made his way over to the small dog bed at the corner of the living room. He sniffed the tartan pillow and huffed before curling himself into a ball. While he appreciated the company of the little terrier when they watched television or went on a walk, he wondered about the life of an animal that spent sixteen hours a day sleeping.

“How about I sleep on the couch instead of upstairs?”

“Are you not able to make it up there?” she asked as her face became filled with worry.

“I’m hoping if I’m close by while you’re cooking, you’ll want to get frisky on the couch,” he admitted and her cheeks pinked. “Deal?”

She shook her head with a smile, which was another classic mixed-Scully-signal, and left him to rest in the living room. She came by as he pulled a blanket over his body and set the beer he was working on when she arrived on the end table near his head.

She held an empty bottle in her other hand and tapped the bottle with her finger. Mulder opened one eye to see the wedding band clanging against the bottle and he smiled at the sound.

“There’s wine in the fridge,” he told her as his fuzzy head began to struggle to stay alert. “White goes with pork, right?”

“Thanks,” she said quietly as she unloaded the groceries on the counter.

“I picked strawberries from the bushes at the edge of the property,” he mumbled into the pillow under his head.

He heard her reply but the words were lost on him as he fell into a sleep to recharge his body. The rash on his collarbone had gotten worse and he felt feverish. If he felt any worse, he would agree to going to the hospital with Scully for any tests she wanted. The alert part of his brain wondered if he was afraid this was more than his body fighting a cold.

He hadn’t read anything on the usual sites he liked to visit about others coming down with strange ailments and dismissed his ill feelings as nothing so his mind could rest.

 

*** *** ***

 

The plan was in place. Tad O’Malley would meet Mulder at the house on Friday morning before work and he could go into the office to further their search for William. Scully was going to arrive at the office at her usual time and cover for him if Skinner asked.

He woke up that morning feeling tired but his fever had subsided. Scully gave him Motrin for his discomfort, did a quick assessment on his vitals and deemed him fit for work.

Mulder offered to let her give him another assessment of a different kind however Scully declined at the risk of being late. He could tell her mind wasn’t going to be dissuaded by the likes of his mouth or hands or… well, he wanted her but understood she had other priorities that day.

The papers Mulder had gathered on Sveta’s background were collected in one pile and another pile was compiled of everything he could get his hands on pertaining to closed adoption records of male babies born from 2001-2002. If O’Malley had any information that cross-referenced with William’s file Skinner gave them or another file in the pile, they had a lead to find their son.

O’Malley had contacted Mulder about the findings of Sveta’s alien DNA and wanted to discuss them further. Mulder could tolerate that. O’Malley could continue to try to convince Mulder that the end was coming while Mulder pushed for answers about William.

What O’Malley didn’t know about this arranged meeting was that Mulder wasn’t biting. He was certain the alien DNA O’Malley was claiming they all had wasn’t the link to the end of the world. It was just more science Scully could prove. There was so much O’Malley had shown him between the ship and Sveta’s scars and yet these occurrences were just dots on the map to a bigger picture. After all they had seen, he finally realized that he needed evidence and science to back them up.

What Mulder wasn’t sure of was whether Scully believed in him enough to know he wasn’t biting at O’Malley’s bait. There was so much pain attached for them in connection with claims of the end of the world and he was embarrassed he let his fears take over who he was. She told him she didn’t want that darkness in her home and yet he let it take over, redecorate then show her the door.

They made vows to honor and trust one another. If Scully was going to let him in and believe in him, Mulder needed to prove he was worthy of that trust.

His fever was getting worse and he was feeling disoriented. The momentary relief he felt from his sickness had passed and another wave hit him that morning. He took Motrin and hoped for the best so he was on his game for when O’Malley arrived.

Mulder looked at his watch. Instead of a possible ally driving down their driveway, it was someone unknown.

His would-be robber opened the front door but Mulder surprised him from the office with his gun drawn. Adrenaline kicked in as the intruder threw the door towards him to try to disarm him. A right hook made contact with his jaw but he barely felt it. Mulder grabbed his arm and flipped him over the table in the middle of the living room.

A kick to Mulder’s chest winded him for a moment and the attacker charged at him. Another right hook met his eye and Mulder wondered if every hired thug took mixed martial arts as an employment requirement or local martial arts academies were where slick men hired their help.

Just when he thought he was about to get choked out by the curtains Scully hung when they bought the house, he found a shell from their trip to the Bahamas. It was lacquered and stronger than a normal shell so it survived a trip home in Mulder’s suitcase.

It was a good weapon to hit someone over the head with and provided enough force to get his head free. The last hit knocked his assailant in the throat and he stepped back. The man got another right hook at Mulder’s face and Mulder returned the punch in kind along with a flip over onto his back on the carpet he threw Scully’s underpants on just a few weeks ago.

He kicked the man in the face but he got up and threw Mulder over the table towards a pile of boxes and a wooden chair. Mulder threw a box then hit the man over the back the chair. This man wasn’t here to rob him, he was here to send a message. These kinds of beatings usually came with a two word instructional note.

_Stop talking._

_Shut up._

_Leave town._

He wasn’t going to do any of those things. He just got his life back together. His wife came home to him and he was working for the federal government. He wouldn’t be silenced by another bully.

As he was picked up and thrown onto the kitchen table, his frame broke the formica table in half. That surprised him. Scully’s weight was easily held by the piece of furniture when he sat her on top of it. That probably said more about their weight discrepancy than anything else.

When he opened his eyes and lifted his head, the young man was pointing a gun at him.

 _Not today, motherfucke_ r, he thought to himself.

Mulder swept his leg along the ground to trip him and drop him to his knees. Mulder scrambled on top of his assailant and quickly disarmed him as he bent his arm back at the shoulder socket and pointed his gun at his face.

“Who sent you!” Mulder demanded through blood and sweat.

The man coughed up blood and spat it on the floor of the kitchen. “Your father.”

Mulder swallowed. “He’s _dead_.”

“You and I both know he can’t die,” the goon under his gun sputtered.

The cigarette smoking son of a bitch lives.

“Why the muscle?” Mulder asked as he pushed on the man’s socket. It would pop out with further force. The next answer better be good.

“The end is coming and he didn’t think you’d see him without your wife,” the man sputtered. “He’s in South Carolina. The meeting place for the safe ones.”

“Good for them,” Mulder retorted.

“He has William,” the goon scrambled. “Your son! He’s got him.”

He felt like he was dying. He felt like this was the end for him but if this was true, he had to get William out of there and to Scully. It was the least he could do for her.

Mulder stood up and grabbed the man by his jacket. “Where’s your car?”

He walked him at gunpoint down the steps of his house and down the driveway to a black sedan that smelled like Morley’s. He pushed the button on the trunk unlock and waved his gun toward the open boot.

“Get in,” Mulder ordered.

“You don’t know where you’re going,” the man pointed out.

“You can shout directions through the back seat,” Mulder suggested as he grabbed a zip tie from the trunk floor and wrapped it around the man’s wrists.

Mulder coughed and spit blood onto the thick gravel that was supposed to get a layer of cement overlay this upcoming weekend. He guessed since it was the end of the world, their deposit on the truck was shot.

He waved his gun towards the trunk again and whistled for the man to hurry. “In you get.”

“Fuck,” the assailant cursed but climbed in anyway.

Mulder looked at the man, who was not at all cramped in there and made a disappointed face. “You look cozier than I would have hoped.”

Before the man could reply, Mulder slammed the trunk closed and listened to more muffled swearing.

“I can take every bumpy back road and hit every pothole if you don’t want to share his address,” Mulder called to him. The swearing stopped for a moment. “You might get a chance to ask my father before I kill him to confirm my point but I’m not above being a son of a bitch.”

“Spartanburg!” the man called. “Spartanburg, South Carolina.”

“Good boy,” Mulder muttered and got in the front seat.

He would need to stop for more painkillers and water on the way. He made a mental note to park at the edge of parking lots or in the back of stores to reduce suspicion. His appearance would gather enough of that.

As the third hour of his drive commenced, Mulder pulled over to the side of the road and closed his eyes. If the end was coming for the world, Mulder’s only regret was that he was so far from Scully now. He owed it to her to bring their son back. He owed her so much more but that was a start. She probably could cure whatever was wrong with him but he had to keep trying.

His eyes closed for a moment and he tried to push sleep aside. He needed to get to Spartanburg and… do what? If the wolf was at the door, Mulder wasn’t about to let him in yet.

 


	20. Fight the Future

Dana Scully stood in the entryway of the house in Virginia looking at a more casual Tad O’Malley. His tie had been shed, his top buttons undone and he looked at her in worry.

“What happened here?” she asked.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said from the kitchen.

“What are you doing here and where is Agent Mulder?” she asked.

He must have been invited for their clandestine meeting to discuss William and the other information O’Malley was feeding Mulder. She understood keeping formalities with O’Malley was ridiculous but it helped create barriers when the sight of a home she had spent time organizing and cleaning over the past week was now in disarray and Mulder was missing. She needed her walls up. Now was not the time to rely on him for support or strength. It would only send mixed signals.

“I don’t know where he is,” O’Malley told her as he approached from the kitchen sink.

“You found it like this?” she asked as she gestured to the mess of papers and broken furniture.

“Door was open,” he told her. “Unlocked. We had arranged an informal meeting.”

A fleeting thought passed through her mind and she was grateful Daggoo was at the apartment in D.C. right now, not witness to whatever Mulder went through.

Scully continued to move through the living room to examine the damage. “A meeting about what?”

“About new facts surfacing,” he said vaguely and she stopped in front of the couch to turn to him.

“I saw your report, Mr. O’Malley, and your dangerous allegations,” she said as he crossed the room towards her.

“Dangerous allegations, yes,” he said as he approached. “But not irresponsible ones.”

Like there was a difference, she thought.

“Alien DNA lurking in every American citizen,” she repeated disapprovingly.

“I had my own DNA tested,” he justified.

“And what did you find?” she asked testily.

“We found anomalous DNA,” he explained.

This just made her angry. He wasn’t an expert. He was a journalist. They were known for becoming mini-experts on partial information on many topics they had no business discussing. They were nosy by trade and too often reported a story before it was completely flushed out. It often left publications open for law suits but O’Malley worked for himself and probably had a disclaimer on every story he reported on.

“Ninety per cent of everyone’s genome is anomalous DNA, Mr. O’Malley,” she told him while fighting to keep the patronizing tone out of her voice.

“I have a doctor who says different,” he countered and she rolled her eyes. “And he’s not a quack.”

“I’d like to be the judge of that,” she replied.

“You found alien DNA, yourself,” O’Malley reminded her. “You found it in Sveta six weeks ago just like we all said you would.”

“I have a question, Mr. O’Malley,” she began. “Where is Sveta?”

“We’ve moved her. She’s safe,” he assured her but that seemed like bravado.

She thought about what she found and the truth she worried about by accepting the chip from CGB Spender during her cancer. Could the alien DNA inside of her and the anomalous DNA inside Sveta be the same? Was Mulder making a connection to her abduction or to something else?

“And this has got Mulder excited,” she deduced.

“It should get anyone excited,” he said with a nod. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and began dialling the non-emergency line local to their area. “Who are you calling?”

“Well, first I’m calling the police,” she said as she listened to the ringing for the police department.

“Dana-” he started.

“Don’t,” she cut him off as she held up a hand.

He reached for her and she pulled her hand away. “Dana, I wanted to help.”

“You have no idea what you’ve done, Tad,” she said bitterly to the man across from her in a pressed suit. ”You have no idea where you’ve pushed Mulder to and who you’ve made him look for.”

“Who?” O’Malley asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Mulder…” the words caught in her throat. “The man he’s going to see is part of a consortium of men in separate governments who work towards their selfish survival from this thing you actually predicted correctly to happen.”

“I was right,” he said with an air of satisfaction.

She wanted to climb on the couch and punch him in his perfect face.

“Mulder is so determined to find the truth even at his own peril,” Scully told him. “He’s going to search for answers… he’s going to look for a man-”

“Who?” O’Malley cut her off.

Scully let out a breath. “His father.”

He looked at her in confusion. “His father is dead.”

She sighed. “The man who raised him and called him his son was murdered. But his biological father might still be alive.”

“CGB Spender,” O’Malley said the name Scully discovered after six years of the man’s lies. “The explosion in New Mexico?”

He really had done his research.

“How did you know about that?” Scully asked as she sat on the couch. The line kept ringing and she hung up her cell phone. “How much research have you done into my life? About Mulder and I?”

“How do you know he survived?” he countered.

Scully looked down at her hands. “I received a letter after Mulder was released from the FBI’s wanted list. It was from Spender telling me that he saw an interview Mulder did about the case. It was written on a typewriter with a poorly scrawled signature and I dismissed it. Like most things, eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I called the number he gave. He was alive.”

“Did Mulder know?” O’Malley asked.

“No… but I know he never fully believed Spender was dead,” she admitted. “He’s worse than a cockroach, seemingly _impossible_ to kill.”

O’Malley nodded and she sighed as she thought back to why she hid that piece of information from Mulder. They had just gotten their freedom and she wanted light in their home instead of the darkness his biological father could bring.

The man seemed to inspire the worst in people, make liars out of saints and destroy the altruistic motives with a hint of doubt. For all they had been through together, Mulder deserved a life free from Spender. He put seeds of doubt in both their minds when he showed her and took away the ultimate cure. The man lured him to the desert to watch him die while taunting them both with an invasion and an end that was coming. His words planted a seed so deep inside Mulder’s mind that when the invasion didn’t come in 2012, Mulder lost himself to that darkness.

No one could blame her for hiding Spender’s existence from Mulder if they knew what he put them through. In the end, she was trying to protect Mulder from what Spender’s influence and presence could initiate.

“Now you,” she prompted. “How much research did you do?”

“I found out about the explosion in New Mexico through a contact,” O’Malley said as he sat down next to her and she sighed. “Through this contact, I was able to learn more about you and Agent Mulder but I didn’t approach her. She approached me.”

“Who is this _contact_?” Scully pushed and he gave her a look to tell her that answer would not be forthcoming.

Whoever this contact was had a lot of explaining to do. The last thing that Scully wanted was for her personal life to be spoken about. Rarely when people spoke about others was it regarding facts without feelings or opinions attached.

“Dana,” he started again and she looked at him questioningly. “I wasn’t asking for untoward motives. I just want to find answers to the truth and inform the American people of what they deserve to know.”

She shook her head with a sad laugh. “You’re so much like Mulder.”

“Without the liberal views and family history of government conspiracies, yeah we are pretty similar,” O’Malley said with a sarcastic smile but she could tell he appreciated the comment. “Is that what you liked about me?”

She felt her cheeks flush at the inquiry. “Tad…”

“I’m just curious how I lost you,” he asked as he put a hand on hers. He had large hands that wrapped around her wrists easily. He pulled her hands towards him and kissed her fingers. “I wasn’t asking you here because I want you back. I don’t think I could say that since you probably were never mine, so to speak.”

“ _No_ I wasn’t,” she agreed and pulled her hands from his. “I need to find Mulder and not reminisce about what could have been.”

He rubbed his hands along his lean thighs and stood up. He pulled his phone from his jacket and began searching through numbers.

“Who are you calling?” she asked.

“My source,” O’Malley told her. “I’m going to tell her to contact you.”

 

  
****** ******

 

After O’Malley left and the police arrived, she filled out a report regarding the break-in from the unknown assailant and obvious altercation that took place there. Blood splatter in the kitchen and across parts of the walls in the living room would belong to Mulder or the other guy - she desperately hoped it was the latter. She asked them to include Mulder’s potential missing status in the report.

Officer G. Mandell reminded her that as an FBI agent, she should know that within the first twenty-four hours, nothing could be done but wait.

Scully placated to the officer as he broke down why he couldn’t file a missing persons report and what the next steps she could take to locate her missing husband were. There were times in her life that she despised the male gender and those in law enforcement. They weren’t seeing her on her best day but she deserved the respect not to be spoken to as if she didn’t know the same laws he did to earn her badge.

She steamed as she thought, _I need feminism because men never talk to men this way._ Obviously, Mandell would respond to another masculine figure and since none was forthcoming at the moment, she would need to call on a friend.

When Mandell finished his speech of well-rehearsed tips of how to search for Mulder - none that would be helpful in this scenario since he had few friends and no family - she smiled tightly. She held up one finger, dialled Skinner and handed Mandell the phone. It was almost delightful to hear him say ‘yes, sir’ quicker than Mulder jumped at a new case that involved potential Bigfoot sightings.

She sighed in the driver’s seat of her SUV as she turned onto Highway 95 towards Washington, hoping for some good luck. Maybe Mulder’s assailant was in the system and he wasn’t careful when he arrived. There were a lot of maybes in her wishes but she had learned to understand uncertainties with Mulder disappearing twenty years ago.

The whole thing reeked of CGB Spender’s motives as it was sloppily executed and terrible timing for both of them. The more she thought about him, the heavier her foot seemed to be on the gas pedal. She forced her mind to other things to save her from an unwanted speeding ticket and a potential car accident.

If she was driving with Mulder, he would lean slightly towards her to glance at the odometer and cluck his tongue in disapproval. She would slow down but tell him to shut up anyway.

“How’s your mood?” Mulder would tease before he tossed her the keys and while she usually told him she was fine or to shut up, it was an inside joke that in anger, she wasn’t the most conscientious driver.

She began to think of what O’Malley all but claimed was coming on his news show. Potential outbreaks could come in many forms and she tried to think back to when she and Mulder first began seeing potential viruses that were masked by something else. This was what they had been warned about through their work on the X-Files before their lives had been torn apart.

After Mulder’s field trip to Tunguska, he explained as much as he could about the testing done on him and the other prisoners. He told her that the black oil gave him symptoms that mirrored other diseases she had studied in medical school. The Variola virus, for example, came to mind immediately.

This virus presents in several ways that mirrored his account of his exposure and ‘treatment’ to the black oil. What she didn’t understand was if this was connected to the syndicate long dismantled or if this could be something far more nefarious to which they couldn’t fight.

In a moment of worry, she thought about how Mulder had been feeling over the last week and a half. Those inflicted with it complained of high fever, chills, headache, severe back and abdominal pain, along with lesions on the body and vomiting.

The first symptoms appear twelve to fourteen days after infection and when examining Mulder in their office just two days prior, he didn’t complain of anything. Unlike the Variola virus, Mulder had been ill immediately after exposure to the black oil but felt better after each treatment from the Russians. In fact, he insisted his warm forehead and perspiration was due to caffeine overload on his system. Her rational mind continued to tell her that there was nothing to worry about.

Still, she was curious.

If he was in any discomfort, she worried why he wasn’t telling her. At the apartment in D.C., he was more than willing to tell her everything else he was feeling. Her mind chimed in that sexual feelings and discomfort feelings didn’t exactly go hand in hand.

“Scully you’re wearing me out,” he teased as they laid in bed after their last round of make-up sex with sweat coating their bodies.

She had been on top with her backside facing him and doing more of the work. She should have assumed that the sweat was due to his fever and not from forty-five minutes of holding out so she could come.

“You don’t feel worn out to me,” she replied and kissed the spot under his lesion on his chest. “You need more ointment.”

She began to run through a patient history as she drove back to the Hoover building. When he had any aches or pains prior to this instant, she would check him over thoroughly and offer solutions before offering a prescription.

_Sore back? Try a hot bath with_ epsom _salts. Take acetaminophen and drink more water. Stretch out the muscles and let me know how you feel._

Mulder would nod obediently, offer to put some bubbles in the bath and they ended up tangled together, making a mess of water on the floor before he could finish his doctor advised regime. For a while, she wondered if ‘Scully my back is really hurting today’ was Mulder code for sex but it wasn’t consistent enough for her to deduce it was.

Outside of muscle aches and pains, anything serious like an internal infection or virus would need proper care. He knew if he needed to be tested for anything, he would have to go into Our Lady of Sorrows with her for a full work up. That was their deal when he continued to list her as his doctor.

His energy levels since she noticed the rash hadn’t been anything to worry about. Aside from the display of sexual prowess the day they officially reconciled, he had been more than fine. His hands were everywhere on her body since she returned home. She felt flush at the reminder of the things they did as they made up for lost time.

The rash and fever should have set off more warning signals in her mind. She blamed the distraction of reconciliation and issues with work but maybe she wasn’t looking for problems because she didn’t want to see them. Maybe she wanted health and happiness for just a moment before the world caved in.

It was selfish and foolish, especially after seeing the state of the living room and kitchen. Something serious happened to Mulder and he didn’t have a beneficial encounter with whoever he left with.

She might have lied a little to A.D. Skinner and Agent Einstein when she told them the altered version of why Mulder would have taken off without contacting her. She didn’t doubt Mulder’s motives for searching for answers but she worried about where he would go looking.

When she insinuated to Einstein and Skinner about the alien DNA being planted in the American public, Einstein had shown her impatience with what she insisted was mere science fiction and pseudo-science.

“This is an internet lunatic,” Einstein scoffed as they looked over the video from O’Malley’s show.

His theories were out there but she wondered if it was part of the show. She didn’t see that side of him when he took her to dinner. Scully made a face.

“You’re not saying you believe him?” Einstein said in disbelief, obviously catching Scully’s expression.

“Just hold on, Agent Einstein,” Skinner interrupted. “You’re talking to a scientist.”

“Uh, forgive me, Assistant Director,” Einstein began but she hardly sounded apologetic. “It may sound insensitive but the suggestion is pure science fiction.”

This was why she held back during her meeting. Merely discussing her theories with outsiders from the X-Files brought mocking and disbelief.

She feared the same things Mulder did. Where his faith completely enveloped him in the idea that the entire world would fall apart, she had less belief in such warnings. O’Malley declared banks freezing their money, detonations of electromagnet pulse bombs to knock out major grids and impending invasions but even after all she had seen, it was too far-fetched for her mind to wrap around. She worried about biological attacks from diseases the scientific community had worked to eradicate. She worried about nuclear bombs from countries that were told to report their stockpile of weapons of mass destruction.

Mulder worried about the things he couldn’t see or hear about in the news. He developed anxiety about the stories that were kept from the public. Slowly, the office that was covered in newspaper clippings as a rebuild of the X-Files became a breeding ground of his worst fears and aversion to what was coming but never did. Eventually, the phobias and conspiracy theories spilled out from the den into their marriage. It made for crowded bedchambers and she couldn’t stand to feel like a third party to Mulder.

That internal strife was part of the reason she was pushed out of their home.

Mulder might argue she left on her own accord but it’s hard to stay in a place you’re so desperately unwanted.

The hurt feelings they both suffered weren’t enough to keep them apart forever. Hence the reason they signed papers for her apartment and made amends to reconcile.

Her feelings of happiness and relief were fleeting, however they had sorted through more or less of their issues and now she worried she was going to lose him again.

It was the recent disappearance that worried her. If he left her to deal with Spender on his own, she feared he wasn’t planning to return.

It would be just like Mulder to make a gallant effort of saving the world and dying in the process after promising to be a better man for her.

He wasn’t a terrible husband but his need to save everyone outweighed his sensibilities as a romantic partner. Dana Scully was no fool. She knew that about him when entering into the relationship. After all these years, she merely hoped he would have learned by now that they were a better team together than apart.

Her rational mind told her to focus on what she could control which was the argument behind Tad O’Malley’s claims of alien DNA in the American populace. By using Agent Einstein as a baseline sample, she could move forward and prove it wasn’t anomalous DNA planted in Sveta for ratings for an internet television show. Involving Agent Einstein, a fellow scientist and doctor, would only add credence to her findings.

While their interaction in the basement office wasn’t tense, Scully worried things could be different once they left A.D. Skinner’s presence. If there was one thing you could count on, it was the change in attitude in most agents once they were no longer in the presence of their superiors.

Scully chose to take Einstein out of the Hoover building to run her DNA genome. Firstly, she still held privileges with Our Lady of Sorrows and visited former patients who asked after her. Secondly, the labs at the hospital were better equipped to handle the kind of testing she wanted to do versus the Hoover building. Lastly, she had more allies in Virginia than in D.C. these days it seemed and she hoped if she needed help, she could rely on Sandeep, a nurse she worked with often before leaving for the FBI.

When she and Mulder had first worked on the X-Files, a majority of the work she did could have been done on the third floor with the help of Pendrell. Now, more than half of the science labs had been closed and moved off-site since foreign and domestic terrorism and cyber crime had overtaken much of the FBI’s jurisdiction. These days, samples the FBI needed processing were sent out to be examined by a third party company so if she wanted to look under a microscope, she might have to dig one out of Mulder’s old boxes that he had brought down as if that was all she needed to ‘science the crap’ out of whatever he was theorizing.

It wasn’t possible to sequence a genome at the FBI anymore, let alone in their basement office. She could imagine trying to clarify that to Mulder, who’s eyes would glaze over as she explained the process of such a complicated procedure. The cost for a private individual in the United States ran upwards of $1000.

“Thank you for doing this, Agent Einstein,” Scully asked as they walked down the steps of Our Lady of Sorrows. “You didn’t have to, considering.”

“My prejudices are only against pseudoscience,” Einstein said gently. “If I can help to clear up this nonsense and find Agent Mulder, I’m only happy to.”

The labs at Our Lady of Sorrows would hopefully do part of what she and Agent Einstein had set out to do.

Whole genome sequencing, or WGS, was the process of determining complete DNA sequence of an organism’s genome at a single time. It was largely used as a research tool but with the advantages that it provided as a tool for therapeutic intervention, it was being done in more clinics as well. The scientific community did not use WGS as they did DNA profiling and the purpose of sequencing a genome was often misunderstood by the public.

Sequencing a genome would not contain genetic relationships, origin or susceptibility to specific diseases. What Scully wanted to do was to prove that Einstein’s DNA had been tampered with through her smallpox vaccination through a WGS. If she could show another scientist, who had no connection to her work in the past, that her own DNA had been tampered with, then she had grounds for proving it to the authorities.

She thought about something simple her father used to say to her. ‘Anything cracked could be welded back, anything torn could be mended.’ She was certain Ahab wasn’t referring to tampered DNA of the American population but sometimes simple analogies could be applied to complicated life situations.

Maybe she should have thought about that regarding her marriage before she left but now wasn’t the time to think about wasted months spent apart and crying in lukewarm bathtubs.

Instead, she was standing in a lab arguing that a smallpox vaccine the general public received as a child changed something in the DNA of each person. A single microbe in the vaccine that could attach itself to the very strands that make up how our bodies fight or give in to infections.

“That would be an unprecedented _violation_ of the public trust,” Einstein replied to Scully when she implied just that.

“And now you know a bit more of the history I was referring to,” Scully replied.

Violations such as kidnapping and abductions that led to medical rape by taking her ova. She was subjected to tests, given a disease and cured all at the hands of these men with a great cost to her and Mulder’s life. What Agent Einstein failed to understand was the world was not black and white. She was more naive and hardened in her ways of scientific thinking than Scully ever was. The results of the test would show her the greys of the world. She imagined Mulder thinking of the grey Reticulian skin tone pun in there someplace and she felt saddened by the fact that he missed that chance.

Agent Miller arrived at Our Lady of Sorrows under orders to help Scully and Einstein locate Mulder. He brought a laptop to show Scully and Einstein why there was a panic beginning to develop among the public and their search for Mulder might be put on hold if it became worse.

Tampering with the immune systems of those who put their faith in the very systems it was designed to protect was a betrayal akin to her own abduction. She didn’t lose her chance at motherhood to visitors from outer space but by military and government men hiding behind the cloak and dagger of the propaganda spread by fanatics to alien abductions.

“Our immune systems decimated by the same tampering to all our genomes,” Dr. Rubell insisted to O’Malley on the screen.

O’Malley and his guest discussed how the systems around them would begin to falter with police and military personnel becoming ill with the very diseases the vaccines were given to them to prevent.

“Suddenly Tad O’Malley is the singular voice of authority?” Einstein scoffed.

“Is this _at all_ plausible?” Miller asked Scully.

Her mind quickly made the connection towards the man who entered the hospital asking for help. He was showing signs and symptoms of Anthrax. The very vaccines designed to protect soldiers going to war, police on the street and doctor’s helping the sick were actually going to be the hindrance to the survival of humanity.

The very men who plotted the demise of their own race burned alive in an airplane hanger for a reason. Justice would come for those responsible for this too.

“Anthrax is the canary in the coal mine,” Scully told Miller and Einstein as they followed her up the stairwell. “It’s a harbinger of infections to come - measles, mumps, rubella, the flu. We’re all going to be exposed.”

“This is happening now?” Miller asked.

“You are witnessing what may be the advent of a global contagion,” she continued.

What she was saying was the kind of monologue that she would be subject to from Mulder fifteen years ago. After all she had seen and learned since being assigned to the basement office of the X-Files, she knew there was some basis to the paranoia and hype around what he was saying.

“You can’t just say these things when this is an isolated case,” Einstein advised.

“Would you like to wait and see?” Scully tested her.

“Would you like to wait and see my test results, Agent Scully?” Einstein countered.

“I don’t think I need to see your test results,” Scully replied confidently.

She left the two younger agents on the landing and found her phone to call Mulder again. She had to reach him to find out if he was okay and use him to help stop whatever was coming.

The phone kept going to voicemail and she left another pleading message.

“Mulder… it’s me…” she stopped herself from crying and bit back the tears in her throat. “I need you to answer. I need your help and I can’t do this alone.”

A nurse rushed past her and she turned her face towards the wall to wipe away a tear.

“Fox…” It was the rare occasion she used it but she felt desperate and needed him there with her. “I can’t do this alone. I need you to call me back, to come here to help me fight whatever is coming… Don’t make me go through this by myself.”

Agent Einstein found her at the top of the stairs and she hung up.

“Are you all right?” Einstein asked her in a rare moment of compassion.

“I’m worried about Mulder,” Scully explained. “He wasn’t well the last few days and I’m fearful he’s going to do something rash.”

“What would he do?” Einstein asked.

“There is a man from our past who is dangerous,” Scully began. “I’m worried-”

“I installed a phone finder app on Agent Mulder’s phone,” Einstein cut her off with a sudden confession. “When he and I worked together during the Babylon case.”

Scully folded her arms across her chest. “Why?”

“When I agreed to give him what he assumed was the mushrooms if he had any kind of reaction, I wanted to be able to find him,” Einstein explained hastily. “I was able to track him to the country bar at the same time as the authorities were called.”

“If Agent Mulder knew you did that-” Scully began.

“I did it for his safety,” Einstein explained hurriedly. “I told Miller. He’s going to find him.”

Scully put her hands on her cheeks as she calmed her nerves. “The second you know anything-”

“I’ll tell you,” Einstein finished for her. “I thought you’d be pleased under the circumstances.”

“If they were any different, I might argue at a _gross_ invasion of privacy,” Scully replied and Einstein looked down at her shoes in embarrassment. “Under the circumstances, I’ll forego the complaint to Skinner if it helps us find Mulder.”

Einstein pulled out her phone. “I’ll text Miller right away.”

As more members of the armed forces came into the hospital reporting of the same illnesses of the man earlier, Einstein and Scully continued to argue about the nature of the pathogen. More men from the military filed down the hall and into the examination room to be treated for Anthrax.

“What do we do here as doctors? We ponder all possible scenarios,” Einstein argued as they discussed the theories behind the motives for a contagion.

“We don’t have time to ponder, Agent Einstein,” she replied.

They needed a leap forward, the kind of jump that Mulder’s mind would make quickly through the practice of theory and conjecture. Hard facts and science brought them so far however in times such as these, the rest of the distance would need more of an open mind.

Her cell phone rang as Einstein checked hers to see if Miller had texted her back.

“Dana?” a familiar voice asked.

“Who is this?” Scully asked, turning away from Einstein.

“I can’t… I can’t talk long,” the woman whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “What are you calling for?”

“Dana, it’s Monica,” the woman told her but there was something in her voice that altered it. A sense of panic and a murmur that changed the tenor of the voice on the other end. “I… I need to meet with you. It’s urgent.”

“Monica, I _can’t_ ,” Scully began. “There’s too much happening right now-”

“Dana, I can help you find Mulder,” Reyes told her and suddenly her priorities shifted. “I can meet you downtown.”

“No,” Scully declined. “Meet me at my apartment. I’ll send you the address.”

“Thirty minutes?” Reyes offered and Scully looked over her shoulder to see Einstein texting on her phone.

“Sure, I think I can be there by then,” she replied and hung up the line. Scully turned to Einstein. “I have to go.”

“ _Now_?” the younger agent waved her hand towards the window. On the other side, the men who had arrived moments ago were presented to the nurses with the same symptoms as the first patient. “Are these cases no longer linked to the genome experiments you’ve been theorizing?”

“Someone I used to work with told me she can help me find Mulder,” Scully explained. “I need you to stay here and work to find the causes of these outbreaks. Find out what these men were exposed to.”

Einstein nodded in agreement. “Miller says he has a lead on Mulder. He was headed to Spartanburg and he's going to get him.”

Scully looked off to the side in thought. “Why would Mulder go to South Carolina?”

 

  
****** **** ******

 

The lobby of Scully’s building was being mopped from the rain water that trickled in as residents moved in and out of the doors. Sitting next to the security desk with an umbrella in hand and a nervous smile on her face was Monica Reyes.

“Monica,” Scully greeted and nodded her thanks to the front desk attendant.

“Dana,” Monica replied and stood as she crossed the space to pull Scully into an embrace.

She forgot what a warm and tactile person Monica was. During her pregnancy and after Mulder went on the run, it was the kind of warmth that she needed. It reminded her of her sister and she tried to remember why they lost touch ten years ago.

“Come upstairs,” Scully invited and Monica followed her to the elevator. “The apartment is a little in disarray right now…”

“How are you?” Monica asked as the doors closed.

Scully stopped fidgeting for a moment. “I don’t know. I think that’s the first time someone has asked me that besides Mulder.”

“Do you tell him the truth?” Monica asked with a smile.

There was something in Monica’s eyes that haunted her. As though a smile was foreign to her and she was watching the lights on the elevator as though they might stop at any moment.

“I do… Usually,” Scully confessed and they both chuffed a laugh. “How are you?”

“I’m… It’s not important,” Monica said.

“I looked for you when I went back to the FBI,” Scully began.

“Wait,” Monica told her. “Just… let’s get to your apartment.”

The cagey behaviour worried Scully but she was more than used to it from Mulder. He swept her apartment three times since moving his belongings there for bugs.

“This building is safe, Monica,” Scully assured her but she waited in silence until they reached Scully’s floor.

Inside Scully’s apartment, there were some boxes of Mulder’s belongings just past the main entry way and five collapsed boxes leaning against the wall by the door. Scully closed the door behind Monica and showed her into the living room.

“Where have you been, Monica?” Scully asked. “When I looked you up at the FBI, they said you’ve been gone for about ten years ago. Skinner said you were anxious when you left.”

“I’ve…” Monica wrung her hands and glanced around at the belongings scattered around. “You’ve reconciled with Mulder.”

“Yes,” Scully replied. Her discomfort in discussing her relationship with Mulder was obvious but she remembered that Monica was a friend. “It’s been a strange couple of years but this is more official and recent. This weekend, actually.”

“That’s good,” Monica replied and sat down stiffly on the couch. “That’s good news.”

“How did you know we had-”

“Dana,” Monica cut her off. “Please sit down. I have to tell you something and you’re not going to want to hear it.”

A sinking feeling began in her chest but Scully sat across from her in the armchair closest to Monica. “What is it?”

She clenched her hands into fists momentarily before rubbing her palms up and down her thighs. “It’s a long story but it started while you and Agent Mulder were still keeping him in isolation.”

“Okay,” she replied hesitantly.

“I received a call to the X-Files office while John and I were still down there,” she began nervously. “I had been writing a series of articles for a small publication about some of the work we had been doing. Mostly I discussed the change in the public’s perception of what was true under the Bush administration. They weren’t critical towards politics but it put a target on my back. Then I received a call. It was from a man who worked for CGB Spender. Somehow he had survived the explosion in New Mexico but was hanging by a thread.”

Scully knew Spender had survived but was unable to uncover the details as to how he had managed to do so.

“Why would you agree to meet with him?” Scully asked.

“He had an offer to make,” Monica replied simply. “Out of mere curiosity, I went. I thought I owed it to you and Mulder to find out what he was scheming.”

The years since they last saw one another had been kind to Monica but there was a haunting in her eyes that spoke volumes. She was unhappy and lonely, that much was evident in her voice and demeanour but also, she was scared.

“How does a man like that still have any power?” Scully asked. “He was hidden away in a rock in New Mexico with nothing.”

“Secrets of the government are worth millions in monetary value,” Monica answered. “He knows too much to be left without protection.”

“What did he want with you, Monica?” Scully asked.

“He wanted to make a deal with me,” she replied.

“What could he _possibly_ offer you?” Scully asked bitterly. “What would compel you to take his deal?”

Monica looked up towards the ceiling with tears in her eyes and she blinked back the emotional response of someone being under the thumb of evil for too long.

“I’ve been working undercover for the FBI for the last decade,” she said and let out a long breath. “That’s the first time I’ve been able to tell anyone that.”

“What?”

“I’ve been a double agent,” Monica said. “I’ve been working for the smoking man and giving information to Skinner since I agreed to take the meeting. I can assure you that Spender has no idea and I know that he doesn’t because he’s kept me alive all these years.”

“Then you-”

“I’m Tad O’Malley’s source,” she finished. “I found the old man that was in Roswell when the first crash landing happened and sent him to Mulder.”

“Why?” Scully asked. “Why not contact me yourself?”

“Things are cutting too close now and I can’t risk it going through channels,” Monica replied. “This has cost me a lot. I lost my friends, family and John-”

“He couldn’t… he wouldn’t wait?”

“No,” Monica said and looked down at her hands as she expressed the weight of what her work had done to her. She looked broken and hollow, probably how Spender preferred it. “When I went into this job, I had to say goodbye to my own life. And John fought me every inch of the way but this was the chance we had to have someone on the inside, working for him and feeding information back to the government so we wouldn’t be blindsided when it hit.”

“When what hit?” she asked.

Monica leaned forward and grabbed Scully’s hand. “This sickness that is hitting the military is just the beginning. It’s going to get to law enforcement officers, medical employees and then the banks.”

“You sound like Tad O’Malley,” Scully noted.

“Who do you think told him?” she countered.

Suddenly it started to make more sense. Mulder was more than reclusive over the last four years and finding him through back channels would be difficult unless that someone knew Scully.

“Spender, laying with tubes inside him and his body barely repairing itself, told me he was the most powerful man in the world,” Monica said with her voice wavering.

“How?” she asked in disbelief.

“What he knew about the coming years put fear into those around him and he had contacts with the aliens that are coming to invade this planet,” Monica told her and Scully tried not to roll her eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous but this is the reality of the world.”

“You’re right,” Scully admitted. “Discounting anything would be naive at this point.”

“Think about all you’ve seen and experienced yourself, Dana. What is coming in the next weeks won’t be too far off from what we used to call a science fiction fantasy,” Monica replied.

“This sounds like conjecture,” she sighed as she rubbed her hand across her forehead. “But I can’t deny that after all I’ve seen and know what he’s been connected to in the past that it sounds too farfetched.”

“It’s not. Even as a dying man, he could destroy the faith humanity has in the governments and systems we hold dear,” Reyes explained. “Just for that, he had power. A.D. Skinner asked me to work with him so that the FBI and our military might be able to fight this impending doom he was threatening.”

“What was he threatening?” Scully asked.

“He has the key to depopulate the planet,” Monica said. “He has the ability to kill everyone but the chosen few.”

She didn’t want to believe it but she saw the files of names in a warehouse underground more than twenty years ago. “My name was on a file-”

“He gave the chip to Mulder to save you,” Monica told her. “Dana, you’re among the few that _will_ live.”

Her concern wasn’t for her own life but for the public who weren’t aware of what was to come. How could she live with herself when other’s hadn’t? There was a basic instinct and desire inside of her to protect the public where she could and save innocent lives. No one should die because of the disgusting backdoor deals that Spender and others made on behalf of the human race.

“How few?”

“Enough to repopulate the planet with hybrids to survive the armageddon,” Monica advised. “They had the technology in the 1950s and have been working to put it in motion since 2012. Mulder was wrong about the date but not about what was coming.”

“This is cowardice,” Scully stated as she stood up with disgust and anger bubbling up inside of her. “He’s hiding behind some kind of smoke and mirrors and playing us like puppets for his sick games.”

Monica stood also. “Don’t you see? We’ve been chosen to live and you can fight this colonization to create a vaccine.”

“With what?” Scully asked desperately.

“You have the tools to fight inside you,” Monica said as she tapped Scully’s chest.

“Don’t give me any new age-” Scully started but stopped herself when she saw the hurt in Monica’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m very worried about Mulder.”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about your spirit, Dana,” she said gently. Monica took her hand and pulled her to sit next to her on the couch. “Your abduction in 1994. The tests they did on you and your own DNA was altered with the alien virus from the honeybee that stung you and the vaccine Mulder gave you in Antarctica.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Scully asked her as she wiped away a tear angrily. “How am I supposed to stop this when it feels like it’s already too late?”

“It’s not,” Monica assured her. “There _is_ time.”

Scully looked at the woman in her home and worried she was wrong. “Where do I start?”

“The science is complicated but I have a file,” Monica began and took out a thumb drive from her pocket. “The password is one we both know. Three words.”

“Fight the future,” Scully guessed and Monica nodded.


	21. Fire

Inside the belly of the whale smelled like cigarettes, stale air and lies. As he entered the library, Mulder found CGB Spender sitting with his stoma, leaking the toxic air into the atmosphere one puff at a time. It was such a trope of who he was as a shell of a man as he sat with not a loved one to be called upon, his henchmen disarmed at the door and a gun to his head.

Mulder thought bitterly how he should merely pull the trigger because he knew a murder charge would sooner stick than any of the other charges they had tried to lay against Spender over the years.

“This is so _unnecessary_ , Fox,” Spender muttered as he glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly.

Mulder surmised that if you had been able to survive an explosion from a rocket launched into your cave in New Mexico, the bullet from an FBI issued Glock .40 calibre wouldn’t be all that intimidating.

“I don’t come when you call,” Mulder said as he rounded the chair, keeping his aim on Spender’s head.

“I’ve been controlling you since before you knew I existed,” Spender scoffed.

The reality of that statement angered him. This man took his sister, he broke apart the Mulder family through an affair with his mother and destroyed any normality and happiness left that masked what really was going on in his home.

“So who’s in control now?” Mulder countered with his gun ready to fire.

“With the world crumbling around us?” Spender said with delight in his voice.

This whole thing was amusing to him beyond what Mulder could understand. These were motives of a sociopath.

“You set this in motion,” Mulder said. “Now you’re going to put a stop to it.”

“Too late for that, Fox,” Spender replied. “Too late for your heroics or mine.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

“You don’t _want_ to believe,” Spender admonished him and took another puff of his cigarette through his stoma.

More falsities from a man who built his empire on deceit and lies.

“You may not believe this but I really want to save your life,” Spender declared.

Mulder lowered his gun. “I don’t make deals with you.”

“So you can see Scully again,” Spender offered.

How Mulder was feeling must have been evident on his face. Was he a man close to death or was that a threat to Scully?

“You harm her, in any way,” Mulder warned and slapped the cigarette out of Spender’s hand.

That seemed to shock him for a moment. The old man sat decrepitly in his chair in a freshly pressed suit while his body clung to a heartbeat that saw presidents die from assassinations he orchestrated.

Spender forced a small laugh to show he wasn’t intimidated but Mulder saw through it. “Every man has his weakness. Mine was always just cigarettes.”

False, his weakness was Mulder’s mother. Mulder’s strength had always come from Scully.

“I’m trying to clean up what mankind has done,” Spender explained but it was pandering. “We’re killing this planet and by starting new, we’ll have something better to work with. I’m offering you to be a part of that. You and your beloved Scully.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mulder questioned him.

“They’re going to colonize us and mankind will move forward as hybrids, in a protected space,” Spender said. “The chosen few. Those who are special will go. Anyone I have sanctioned will travel to a small community in Canada above the border in the west.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked the old man.

“So you can see how much better our future will be when the special ones are saved!” Spender declared. “Our family is special. A place is waiting for you to work alongside me. Just like I’ve always wanted. I can give you the vaccine so you can be set aside and saved. We’ll let those who aren’t worthy rot and die like they should.”

“You sound like a Nazi criminal not a humanitarian,” Mulder said as he cocked his gun at the old man’s face. ”I couldn’t live with the idea of surviving because you had some hand in it.”

“You’d let her face an uncertain future knowing what’s coming?” Spender said smugly. ”But not now that the world is ending?”

“You’re trying to scare me with a failed prophecy from 2012,” he snapped. “The world isn’t ending. You’re just trying to spread more fear and paranoia from your sad spot in a living room where no one knows you exist.”

“They didn’t have to know my name to know the effects of my work. And you are wrong, nothing failed,” Spender told him. “We started the countdown in 2012 but that wasn’t Armageddon’s coming date. Think of all that’s changed since that year. Our bee population is slowly dying off. Without them, our food resource dies off and this all began four years ago.”

“You’re lying!” he shouted.

“I wouldn’t lie about this and not about the future of your family,” Spender replied. “And mine.”

Mulder’s jaw clenched. “Stay away from Scully.”

“It was okay to use my help when I cured her cancer,” Spender countered. “But not now when the world is ending? She’s going to survive with or without you and I’ve made sure of that. I sent for you so you could have that future together. Without my help, you’ll be dead within a week. You’re looking feverish, Fox.”

“Shut up!” Mulder shouted. “I’m fine.”

“It’s not too late,” he offered. “I can help you.”

Mulder was sure that was exactly what the devil offered before damnation. He couldn’t accept the idea of living in a future that he sacrificed his soul for. The devil you know isn’t better than the devil you don’t - they’re all monsters except this one wore a mask of plastic that hid age spots and liver failure.

“I won’t take your help,” Mulder managed to say as he focused his sight on the man’s face in front of him. “I would rather die.”

“Such theatrics,” Spender said as he shook his head. “You will die without my help and Dana will be on her own without you, unprotected. Your wife and son will bury you as I give them comfort.”

No.

“You son of a bitch!”

This man had to be stopped no matter what it meant to the human race. He didn’t care who his bedfellows were, who was protecting him and what he was in charge of. If he killed him, he could at least find justice for his father, his sister and everything done to Scully.

“I hope you’ve made your peace,” Mulder said as he moved his finger to the trigger.

“Agent Mulder!” Miller burst into the room. His gun was aimed at Mulder and he was watching the man in the chair carefully. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ridding the planet of the _last_ cockroach,” Mulder said as he felt his finger flex.

“Wait!” Miller cried and Mulder took his finger off the trigger. Miller had his hands up as he was trying to negotiate an obvious scenario in which Mulder could go to jail for. “Don’t end your life because you’re ending his.”

“No one can prosecute me for the murder of a man that never existed,” Mulder explained and looked at Spender. “I’ll bury him in the backyard which is more than he deserves.”

Miller approached slowly as Spender watched the men negotiate his future. “How would you explain that to Scully?”

“She’ll throw me a parade,” Mulder quipped dryly.

“You two honestly think you can control my future?” Spender sneered.

Miller looked around. “I heard a radio. There are men coming to the house to find him. If he’s dead, someone will be looking for who did it.”

“I don’t care,” Mulder replied as he wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty brow with the gun still between the grip of his fingers.

“You can’t do anything to me without risking the chance that you won’t see your son again,” Spender pointed out. “Didn’t you know, Fox? I have him safe too.”

“ _No_ ,” Mulder denied it.

“He’s close,” Spender teased. “I have the location safe with me.”

Mulder looked at the front pockets on his tailored suit.

“Agent Mulder,” Miller pleaded. “Please come with me. We need to get you back to Agent Scully. She’s working on a cure!”

“Not until this son of a bitch tells me where my son is,” Mulder shook his head with the gun at his side. “Where is he!”

“Closer than you think,” Spender said. “He might even be close to Scully in Washington.”

“Stop toying with me,” Mulder demanded as he raised his Glock to aim at his Spender’s chest.

“I’ve sent someone for William,” Spender replied smugly. “He should be arriving shortly and he can see what a shell of a man his father is just as you saw in the man who raised you.”

“You shut up about my father!”

“Agent Mulder!” Miller pleaded again. “Stop this. Let’s go!”

“If he has my son, I can’t let him get away with this,” Mulder said. “This has to end.”

“Don’t you want to meet your son as he is now, Fox?” Spender asked. “He’s a bright young man.”

“ _Shut up_!”

“He was a beautiful baby but I have to say, he’s quite handsome as a young man,” Spender boasted. “I might give that to his mother. She was always quite fetching in my opinion, long before you noticed her that way.”

“I swear to God-”

“Why are you fighting me, Fox? I have everything you need to live,” he taunted. “Your son, your cure and the means to make Scully happy with a future together.”

“I won’t take help from a man who killed millions to give it to me,” Mulder said in disgust.

“I’ll tell your family those were your last words,” Spender replied. “When we are living in our special place. Without you, they’ll need someone to turn to. I’m happy to be that man for them. With me, at least they’ll be safe from colonization.”

This had gone too far. His life was not going to be controlled by this man any longer. He felt weak and ready for sleep but he needed to stop everything Spender was planning.

“Without me, the colonization won’t protect anyone,” Spender threatened. “Not even your precious Scully or your son.”

Mulder pulled the trigger. He fired again, again and again. The smell of gunpowder burned in his nose and he waited for a sign of blood from Spender’s chest. Except instead of blood, bright green foam began oozing from the wounds and he covered his face.

He grabbed a letter opener from the desk and stabbed the back of Spender’s neck. More foam and a burning smell emanated from the wound. The bubbles began leaking from Spender’s orifices. His nose bubbled under the plastic mask and his eyes began to sink inside his sockets.

The shell of the man seemed to be sinking in on itself and he thought he finally had some justice until the figure stood up.

“ _Run_!” Mulder cried to Miller.

Miller covered his own face and grabbed Mulder. They stumbled from the house as they coughed from the burning in their lungs. The dewy air of South Carolina felt like a balm to his throat as they gasped on the porch. Mulder realized he didn’t have the location for William and he couldn’t face Scully after another failure.

“I have to go back,” Mulder told the younger agent.

On shaking legs, Mulder used the railing on the porch to stand and he turned back to the front door. Inside the house could be more answers and it was worth the risk. It always was.

“No, Agent Mulder!” Miller ordered. “We can find your son _another_ way!”

“You don’t understand,” he said as he looked inside the foyer of the house for Spender’s clone to come for them. “I can’t go back to Scully empty handed. I need to at least have the means to find him.”

“Whoever that was said they were bringing him here. We can intercept them and take him with us,” Miller suggested as he pulled on Mulder’s arm.

Mulder broke free from his grasp and dropped the letter opener to the ground. “I have to come back with something!”

“Come back so she can save you,” Miller negotiated. “What good will your efforts be if you’re dead?”

The two men stood on the porch as they debated their stalemate.

“Agent Scully is working on a cure for whatever this is,” Miller told him. “I promise you that we will find your son. I’ll do whatever I can.”

There were footsteps in the distance and Mulder could hear a fire crackling. If that clone was coming for them, they had to move. Mulder stepped inside the front hallway and opened the drawer of the table there. A black notebook book sat on top as though it was waiting to be found. Just in case it turned out to be a lead worth following instead of a plant of false information, Mulder took the small book and tucked it into his front pocket.

“Don’t make me go back to her empty handed either,” he said and Mulder acquiesced to the younger agent. “Let’s go, please.”

He exited the foyer onto the porch as he looked at Miller’s brow. Mulder noticed the sheen of sweat there. “You’re sick too.”

“I’ll make it back to Washington,” Miller assured him.

“And William?” Mulder stalled.

“I promise you, we will find him,” Miller replied. “I won’t let him go through any of what’s coming alone but we have to get going. Let’s go!”

Mulder stumbled but they made it to Miller’s car. Mulder tossed the keys to the car he took out the window and as they reached the highway, a loud bang sounded behind their car. Miller stopped suddenly and they looked back to see the smoking man’s house engulfed in flames. There was a strange haze in the air billowing up from the fire. Mulder recognized that from previous encounters involving the shape shifting clones once their bodies broke down and came into contact with fire.

Spender would be cremated again, rise and come back in some other form of the devil with a mask and expensive suit. Mulder could feel he wasn’t totally dead by the same way you could feel evil in a room or the pain of a loved one you missed.

Two black SUV’s approached from either end and stopped Miller’s car from continuing down the highway. Inside the vehicle in front of them were three large men in suits and one had his gun drawn already. The cavalry had arrived and they were about to make Mulder pay for what just transpired.

“I don’t think any of those guys are your son,” Miller guessed.

Two men exited the first vehicle with their guns drawn.

“Can you get around them?” Mulder asked Miller.

“Where is he?” the first one demanded, asking for Spender.

“They don’t have the boy with them,” one of them reported to the others.

Mulder’s heart clenched for a moment. They were talking about William.

“Not without wrecking the paint job,” Miller quipped but he threw his car into reverse to put some distance between them and their attempted captors.

“Stop right there!” another man in black demanded. “Where is the boy?”

“They don’t know shit either,” Mulder said with disgust. “Spender lied again. Just go.”

Miller backed up a few feet, glanced at Mulder before stepping on the gas and flooring it past the makeshift roadblock by using the shoulder of the road. The car felt as though it was going to tip into the ditch for a split second as Miller dodged one of the henchmen. Mulder turned in his seat to watch the men get back in their vehicles and drive towards the burning house instead of after them.

“I’m surprised they didn’t shoot us,” Miller commented as they cleared the space.

“How did you find me?” Mulder asked.

He coughed into his hand and looked for blood. If he was going to die in that car, he wanted to be aware it was coming.

Miller sniffed. “Uh, Liz put a tracker app on your phone…”

Mulder pulled the Android phone from his pocket and swore under his breath. The app was hiding on the second page in a folder for utilities where he would be sure not to look. He didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful at the intrusion.

As the flames of Spender’s house grew smaller in the distance, Mulder felt his exhaustion take over. Inside that home, he found no answers and he was ready for whatever was slowly killing him to just get on with it. Shit or get off the pot. He couldn’t find William, wherever Spender really was eluded him again and Scully was too far away.

His phone rang in his hand and he knew this time he couldn’t ignore it.

“Hello?” he answered.

His voice was gravelly and the sweat coating his body was not doing its job to cool his skin down. He was feverish and he wondered if he was hallucinating half of what he saw. The face of a man blown off and smoke billowing out of his neck - was that real or in his mind? 

“Mulder, thank God!” 

“Tad, that slick talking son of a bitch, was right,” Mulder managed and coughed a few times.  

“Where are you?” she asked. He could picture her touching her cross as a latent prayer and her face wrought with worry. “I went to the house and saw the blood.”

“Most of it wasn’t mine,” Mulder assured her. “Hopefully someone finds the guy it does belong to locked in his trunk sooner rather than later.”

“I’m glad you’re all right,” she said with a sigh of relief.

“Agent Miller just dragged me out of Old Smokey’s,” Mulder said and coughed again. “I can’t believe it. That smoking son of a bitch father of mine survived the blast in New Mexico. He looked worse than Vader under the mask.”

“I know,” she whispered. ”Monica’s here and she told me everything.”

“Even the part about him being a clone?” Mulder asked.

“What?”

“If he’s a clone, the original is still out there and he needs to be stopped,” Mulder told her.

“That’s not my concern right now. You are,” she said quietly. “Listen, Mulder….I have something and it seems to be helping everyone with their symptoms. I don’t know if it’s a solid cure but so far it’s working to treat them.”

“I’m too far away, too far gone for saving,” he told her. “I wish you only learned that in 1992. You should have gone back to Blevins’ office to ask for reassignment then.”

“Mulder don’t talk like that,” Scully’s voice caught in her throat. 

“If you had never followed me all those years ago, you might be ready to put your youngest through university by now,” he said. “You lost too much because of me, Scully. At least when this thing came-”

“I’d be dead if I never met you, Mulder,” Scully interrupted. “I would be dying with everyone else and I wouldn’t have a way to save all of us. I would be living half a life and wishing every day someone would have come around to excite me the way our work has. So shut up and tell Agent Miller to step on the gas.”

Mulder could feel his body shutting down. His mind was foggy and if the wolf was knocking at the door, he might answer.

“I don’t know what you have but I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“You’re not a quitter, Mulder,” Scully reminded him. “You have to hold on until I can get this to you. You _have_ to try.”

“I’m tired of trying,” he said, defeated. 

“I need you to try,” she pleaded. He could hear her sniffing. “Please.”

He let out a long breath. “I will, for you.”

“If I found a way to save the planet, you can try to live long enough to get this cure,” she retorted and he huffed out a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. “You sound bad.”

“I feel pretty bad,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was sick.”

“That’s on me,” she replied. “I should have paid better attention to how you were feeling instead of what we were doing.”

“I wouldn’t trade that week of memories for anything.” He coughed again. “I wish I could have convinced you that this was coming sooner instead of making you think I was crazy.”

“I think deep down I knew,” she confessed. “I just didn’t _want_ to believe it.”

“You don’t say,” he retorted and he heard her laugh.

At least if he died soon, he knew he could make her smile before she cried again. He had done a lot of the latter in the last few years. Making her laugh or smile stopped being his speciality in 2013 when an obsession with what didn’t come took over their home and shoved her out. 

“Listen, if I don’t make it, you need to find William and tell him his old man went down swinging,” he said.

“We’ll find him together and you can tell him yourself,” Scully replied. “Tell him how much you fought for all of us.”

Mulder reached into his pocket and pulled out the notebook. His shaking hands thumbed at the pages and he realized what it was. It was an address book filled with names and locations written in geographical numbers. That sick son of a bitch, Spender might be helping them after all.

“I might have a way to start looking.”

“I knew you would.”

“Where does this faith come from that we’ll all survive this?” he asked.

He closed his eyes and felt the hum of the car around him. The window felt cool against his forehead.

“I found it in you,” she whispered.

His heart was aching. She needed someone there to help her through this and he had recklessly driven to South Carolina to face a man who wouldn’t die.

“Scully…” he started and coughed again. “Spender. I found him.”

“You said that,” she reminded him and he could hear the worry in her voice that his short-term memory was fading.

“It wasn’t actually him, Scully,” he tried to explain. “It was a clone. I don’t know where he really is but we have to stop him.”

“You said that.”

“Scully, what if the original has William?”

The phone started to crackle and the line cut out.

Mulder looked at the screen and the bold lettering across the display that told him there was no service. If the world was ending, the chances of cell service being a priority were probably pretty slim.

“ _Shit_!” he cursed.

“This is a bad area,” Miller explained as they drove along the highway. “We’ll have service again in an hour. Get some sleep.”

Mulder looked around the car nervously and tried his phone again only to get another message there was no signal. “I need to know what’s happening.”

The roads were empty at the moment but Mulder couldn’t risk sleeping through saving his son after missing the last sixteen years. They were both born to families that had too many ties to the wrong things.

“If anything happens on the drive, I will wake you up,” Miller promised. “I didn’t know… Agent Scully mentioned she had a son but I wasn’t sure you were the father.”

“It was a complicated friendship before we were together as lovers,” Mulder sighed. “I don’t even like using that word to describe her because she wasn’t just one thing.”

Miller nodded knowingly. “Women never are.”

Mulder wanted to know how the man driving him seemed to have so much wisdom. When Mulder was thirty, he was poorly navigating through friendship, intellectual equality and desire with a woman who casually laughed at his jokes but was the best friend he ever had.

“If I knew then what I know now-”

“You might not have all you do,” Miller countered.

“You talk to the Dalai Lama on your time off?” Mulder quipped.

“I think after serving in the war, I know what loss is to not want any more of it,” he explained.

Miller was so goddamned earnest and pure as he was saying it, Mulder almost felt sorry for him. Except Miller wasn’t the one who was feeling as though death was coming for him, Mulder was.

Mulder tried to keep his eyes open but he felt the long day, the beating he took and the drive began to weigh his eyelids start to drop.

“Wake me if you see him…”

His mind fell into a deep sleep and he thought about Scully, William and the only times they had together. As he slept, his mind brought him back to the forty-eight hours they had as a family before it all ended.

It wasn’t enough.

 

***** *** *****

 

He held William for over an hour in the quiet of Scully’s bedroom while she unpacked the rest of her items from the hospital. Their kiss had made him feel happy and whole but there wasn’t anything else he could do about his desire for her. She had just given birth and he might be arrested for what happened in the parking garage at the Hoover Building.

“I’m surprised they didn’t want to keep you there longer,” he said as William’s eyes drooped. Mulder kept bouncing slightly as the baby began to drift into sleep and he smiled at Scully proudly. “You see this?”

She approached Mulder slowly and carefully. He could see she was sore after giving birth but he was at a loss of what to do. She spoke quietly, “Good job. Do you think you can get him into the bassinet without waking him?”

Next to the bed sat a white bassinet with soft linens and a small stuffed fox sitting at one end. William transferred to the small bed easily and Mulder picked up the toy.

“Was this you?” he asked as he held the knitted woodland creature.

Scully shook her head as she watched William as the baby sighed in his sleep. “Frohike.”

“I guess my part in the blessed event is out of the bag,” he said and he moved over to the bed to sit down.

“I don’t think it was ever that much of a _secret_ , Mulder,” she replied with a wry smile as she sat carefully next to him.

She was beautiful and he wondered how she had a glow about her after all she had been through. During her pregnancy, they had worked through so much except the paperwork of William’s birth certificate. There were emotional barriers that Mulder put up after he awoke from the dead as he worked through survivor’s guilt and anger. He hurt her again just by waking up and not knowing how to deal with a life they both hoped for.

It all seemed so surreal to be there now. The room was calm with William breathing softly a few feet away and the sound of the summer breeze through the trees beyond Scully’s bedroom window echoed onto the quiet street. The world was giving them the quiet they truly deserved.

He spotted a manilla envelope on Scully’s bedside and took a chance. “Is that the paperwork?”

She nodded as she closed her eyes with her hands folded across her belly that once contained the baby to the right. It was a wild experience to feel that baby moving around inside her but now he was out, sleeping soundly and waiting for life to be better for him than it was for Mulder.

“Are you going to let me - I mean, can I sign them?” he asked hesitantly.

Scully opened one eye and then the other when she caught his expression. “Of course.”

Mulder reached across and took out the documents from the envelope. He just had to fill in his name, sign a few places and he was registered as the father. “You have to mail these off tomorrow?”

She nodded as she watched him read. “If you’re worried about-”

“When I said yes to helping you have a baby, I wasn’t saying yes to just donating some sperm, Scully,” he reminded her. “I wanted to be a part of it. I just don’t want you to end up as collateral damage for some quest.”

“What do you mean, Mulder?” she questioned.

He clicked the mechanism to push the tip of the pen out and signed where he needed to. “I’m going to be better than my father and Spender. I won’t let you two get caught up-”

“ _Let_ us?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I won’t do anything to put you in danger. I won’t let that happen.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“I’ll play by whatever rules they set out,” he promised. “For you and William.”

“Mulder I wouldn’t ever ask you to give up your quest for me or William,” she protested.

They held their gaze for a moment and she patted the space on the bed next to her with a sigh. Mulder shed his boots and jacket and climbed towards the side he normally slept on when sleepovers at Scully’s place included tasting the sweetness of her while trying to achieve a personal best for most orgasms in an hour. The count for Scully was nine and something he felt particularly proud of.

Mulder laid on his back next to her and took her hand in his. It felt smaller than he remembered in that moment and he was suddenly aware of all the vulnerabilities she had as a woman and a mother. “If pleading guilty to whatever they’re going to accuse me of next is what it will take to have some kind of a future in three to five years-”

“No,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to ever hear you say that ever again. You’re not a quitter.”

“Scully-”

“This isn’t the man I fell in love with,” she interrupted again. “Whoever you’re trying to be, stop. I don’t want someone else, just _you_.”

“I could try,” Mulder promised. “You know… to be someone better.”

She sat up carefully and turned to him on the bed. “Anyone else but you would be boring, Mulder. You’re the only person who truly knows me and for the rest of my life, I’m going to have someone who understands all that I’ve been through. How would I explain my life to anyone outside of this room? I feel like I’m that person for you and I am not interested in finding that from someone else.”

“Even if he’s some charming, smart, handsome banker who has three kids and a big wrap around porch on his quarter acre property?” Mulder proposed.

“Not even if he had chocolate labs and let me call him by his first name,” Scully countered with a smile.

Mulder smiled too. “I wish I was better for you two.”

“Just try to be that, Mulder,” she said softly.

 

  
***** *** *****

 

Mulder jerked awake out of the memories he wanted to reside in as his phone rang again. The cell service had resumed on their leg of the highway back to Washington and Mulder fumbled to press the green button on the screen.

“Mulder,” he responded groggily.

“Thank God,” she sighed. “Mulder, where are you? Please tell me you’re close.”

He looked out the window and tried to recognize the landscape but his vision was too blurred to make out what should have been familiar. “Let me ask my driver.”

“An hour outside of Washington,” Miller reported. “I stopped for gas and got you some water.”

“Miller’s right,” Scully spoke up, obviously hearing Miller through the receiver. “Drink water. When you get here, I’m going to try to flush this thing out of your system.”

Mulder tried to open the lid off the bottle and a small amount spilled onto his lap as he tried to work the opening towards his mouth. “Fuck.”

“Mulder,” Scully started again. “I’ve told Tad about our progress with the cure. It’s working. You need to get back here to help me. Just hold on a little longer.”

There were sirens blaring and horns honking in the road. Everything sounded chaotic and a blinding headache began to throb with each beat of his heart.

“I’m not going to be much help myself,” he said. He dropped the phone into his lap and pressed the speakerphone button. “I can’t do two things at once, Scully.”

“Just hold on a little longer, Mulder,” she asked.

“Agent Scully,” Miller spoke up as they arrived at the exit to take them into Washington. “I’m on the bridge but traffic is barely moving.”

“Pull over and I’ll come to you,” she told him. “I’m close to the bridge.”

Agent Miller stopped his vehicle suddenly. A wave of nausea hit him and Mulder opened his door in preparation to vomit. This intense reaction to the virus now was all he could focus on. The cold air of the night was a kindness to his fever. A person running through the crowd shut the door on Mulder’s face and he didn’t have the energy to open it again.

“All I see are cars,” she called through the phone.

He prayed she was close. The wolf was knocking at the door and he was ready to let him in. The fight was over and he had nothing left in him.

“I’m going to get out,” Miller told Scully.

He could hear the pandemonium around him of people trying to leave the city. Where would they go if their saviour was on their way with the cure to him?

The door opened again and his eyes made out her face through the haze of his fever.

“Mulder,” she said with relief. “I’m here.”

“He saved your life,” Mulder muttered. “Old Smokey. I supposed I should thank him.”

“We’re going to save your life,” Scully told him.

“Agent Miller is also in trouble,” Mulder said before another coughing fit took over.

“I’ll take care of Agent Miller,” she promised.

He believed her. The woman never went back on a word she said, almost to a fault.

“Right now I’m going to get an IV into you,” she told him.

She stood up and pulled Miller aside to have a conversation the throbbing in his head wouldn’t allow him to hear. If he felt a fraction better, he would be trying to stand up and convince Scully to save anyone else but him. He hadn’t earned it after all he had put her through.

Scully knelt down. “Mulder, we have to find William-”

“I know,” he cut her off.

“I need his DNA to help you,” she said. "I'm scared what I have won't be enough."

He felt a prick in his arm and a rush of cold as the IV began to flood his system. The fever remained and he worried it was too late. The throbbing in his head subsided enough for his thought processes to clear and he thanked his lucky stars that this cure held something inside of it that made his nerves tingle in the ways painkillers usually did.   
  
“You should have found someone else,” Mulder said.

“What?” she asked as she leaned in close to him.

“Someone better,” he muttered. “Someone safer. Someone who could have given you the chocolate labs and step-kids with GPA’s that would have made you proud.”

“You’ve made me proud,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him.   
  
He wished he could kiss her back and take solace in her touch. He wanted to pull her close and hold her as a comfort while his body utilized whatever was in this cure.   
  
“Just rest,” she urged him as she pulled back.

“Scully there’s still time for you to find that safe person,” he said as another wave of relief from the fever washed over him. “Get your wrap around porch and the happy ending.”

“Shut up you fool, you’re my happy ending,” she said with a sad smile. “I need you to fight this so we can have it.”

Mulder wiped a hand across his sweaty brow. “I guess it would be wrong to disappoint you twice in one lifetime by dying now.”

A bright light exploded overhead and they looked up to the sky. The crowd of people panicking fell silent except for a sharp scream heard in the distance.

“Oh my god,” Scully sighed with wonder and fear. “They’re back.”

 


	22. Not with a Whimper but with a Bang

The bright white lights that brought the end of the world hovered overhead for an achingly long moment. It focused on Dana Scully where she stood on the bridge with an intensity that brought her back to a scary night on the Ruskin Dam. She almost lost her life that night. With the threat of what was to come next, she wondered if her heart had actually stopped. There was an anticipation of whether or not it was all over built up to a bittersweet ending and she would see her mother again.

Having a home finally with Mulder again was all she wanted since she left and to lose it all because of this Armageddon for humanity was cruel. The pessimism in her mind was distracting her from possible and impending doom. Everything felt as though it was in slow motion as she looked from the lights above her to Mulder as he looked back at her with utter fear in his eyes.

She knew exactly what he was thinking. He was worried she would be taken again. The question of who these beings were there for lingered in her mind. Of the two of them, he had been taken more recently but she had the chip in her neck where they could possibly track her. There were too many variables in the last twenty years for them to consider with their past.

Colonization would only be the beginning. If she couldn’t help Mulder and cure him, there wouldn’t be much left except her son William to keep her fighting. Mulder was always the person that pushed her curiosity and drove them forward to the truth. Regret washed over her as she thought about how she had left him. What a waste of life to spend it in strife when he turned out to be right in the first place.

Maybe if she hadn’t left him, if she believed in what he was scared that was coming or maybe if she just tried harder, they wouldn’t have lost that time together.

That was too many maybes to be considering when it could all end in a flash if the beings above decided to burn them alive as they did on that cold bridge in Pennsylvania. Maybe they would land, gather them up and she would spend the rest of her life watching those around her die.

The light quickly moved from her to where Mulder was sitting in the car and she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.

“ _No_!” she cried out. She threw herself onto his lap to protect his body from the light as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.

She couldn’t allow them to take him. If they were going to try, she had to put herself in the line of fire and keep him on the ground. There would be no mysterious disappearances and she wouldn’t tell anyone she lost him again. Not now.

People were running off the bridge and away from the lights. No one else appeared to be paralyzed by the impending doom. The crowd was disbursing in either direction while she was cemented in place. Scully didn’t care about everyone else at that moment. It was paramount to save Mulder because at least he could help her resist this invasion. She would not serve any ‘greater purpose’ or whatever jargon Spender was trying to sell Monica Reyes on when she took on her role as a double agent.

Once again, her life’s happiness was put on hold for a quest. It all came down to them fighting against something bigger than themselves but also so small that it felt like it was possible to maybe win. If the battle was a microbe, she could dissect, pull apart and create a vaccine against it. The fear was only in not being able to help everyone. If this really was the end, she would go down fighting to save everyone but she would go down alongside Mulder which seemed poetic and right in all the ways it should be.

Mulder put an arm around her and rubbed up and down her back. “It’s just looking.”

“No, Mulder!” She held on to him tightly and felt her body shake with fear. “I won’t let them take you again.”

“Scully,” Mulder whispered. “They’re looking for Spender.”

“How do you know?”

Miller ran to the car and sat in the driver’s seat as he looked up through the windshield to the lights overhead. His fight-or-flight response had kicked in to stay and fight, which was admirable to say the least.

“They’re looking for him,” Mulder said into her hair. “They’re looking for that smoking son of a bitch.”

Of course, he had a theory already.

“He was a clone, Scully,” Mulder said as he rubbed her back. “They’re going to look for the original and William.”

Scully pulled back to look at his eyes and saw the familiar gleam of knowing something before her in his green irises. The lights over the car moved down the bridge and towards the direction Mulder had just come from. It worried her that they had left but she felt a small sense of selfish relief wash over her for more time with Mulder.

“We need to find him,” Scully breathed and he nodded. “He’ll be able to save you, Mulder.”

“ _You’re_ saving me,” he corrected her as he reached up to touch her face with the back of his fingers.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Mulder closed his eyes as she ran her hands over his face. His still had a fever but his colour looked a little better. She had the IV bag hooked up to the seatbelt in the car with an elastic band. As she stayed seated on his lap and checked the line and his vitals, Mulder wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Can I get a _full_ physical after this?” he leered.

Scully’s cheeks flushed at the comment in front of Miller but ignored it. “Your fever feels less elevated but I want to get a full workup done on you when we get back to the hospital.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he said as he opened his eyes.

“Mulder, we’re going to find William,” she told him with determination. “His DNA is the key.”

“What?”

“My DNA and your previous exposure to the virus have made him the ultimate cure-” she began and shook her head. “If he was in the wrong hands, someone could use him for the wrong reasons. We have to find him. He can't be used by them again.”

Mulder pulled the address book from his jeans pocket. “This might be a start.”

She kissed his lips softly and took the book from him to look through. Latitude and longitude coordinates under names and titles filled the book. William might be in there and if he was in danger from Spender, they had even more reason to protect him.

“We need to get back to the hospital first and find Einstein,” Miller said and wiped at the sweat on his brow. “If she has been using the treatment Agent Scully created, we’ll be able to set up a command centre.”

Regroup, organize, fan out and combat. It was a military idea that Scully recalled from when her father taught her and her brothers how to win at neighbourhood games. Once off the military base, the Scully kids usually overtook the others in games of ‘kick the can’ and ‘capture the flag’.

Scully nodded in agreement. “We can’t get through traffic here.”

Miller pulled out his cell phone. “I can get us a ride.”

Thirty minutes later when the crowd had dispersed, sirens rang through the air and the visitors were gone, help arrived. An air ambulance landed on a strip of grass near the bridge. Scully felt immediately grateful that those who arrived showed no signs or symptoms of whatever was ailing the military men at Our Lady of Sorrows earlier that day.

The crew put Mulder onto a gurney, strapped him down with his IV on his chest and wrapped a blanket around him.

As they ran towards the Huey, Scully recited his condition and tried to reiterate that he was being treated. The sound of the main rotor blade was too loud. The medic waved his hand in her face and loaded Mulder into the main area of the cabin. The entire crew were wearing surgical face masks and Scully wondered if that was a preemptive strike against what they feared. She needed to tell them they weren’t contagious.

The gurney clicked into place while Scully was put into a seat, strapped securely. Miller was being taken care of opposite her and she could see that he was starting to falter. She needed to get the vaccine for him too.

The helicopter took off and she gripped the seat cushion underneath her as it wobbled side to side during its ascent. Mulder was watching her through glassy eyes and he pulled his arm from under the blanket to reach out for her. She released her fingers from one of the cushions and began to stretch her arm out to him. Before they could touch, the medic pushed Mulder’s arm down.

“What are you doing?” she asked as they handed her a surgical mask.

“He might be contagious!” the medic warned, his voice echoing through the headset she had on. “We don’t know what this virus is yet!”

“He’s not contagious!” Scully spoke back but she put on the face mask anyway. “It’s not what you think.”

“We need to get him to a doctor to make sure,” the medic replied.

“I _am_ a doctor!” she practically shouted.

Mulder shook his head at her and closed his eyes. Scully hadn’t been paying much attention to who Miller called but she recognized the badges now.

FEMA was written across the back of their uniforms and she began to realize what Alvin Kurtzweil warned them about was actually happening. When Mulder told her, she thought it sounded too crazy to be true. What would the Federal Emergency Management Agency want to do with power during a time like this?

A time like this didn’t happen when they anticipated in 1998 but almost twenty years later, they were ready to go.

The helicopter approached Our Lady of Sorrows and on the hospital grounds were tents, quarantine stations and fencing up where there was open space before. There was an ominous feeling that came over her and this wasn’t about doom or colonization.

This was just the beginning, she understood that now.

“Agent Scully,” Miller said as he pulled the oxygen mask from his face. “You need to make sure Liz is all right.”

The medic put the mask back on Miller’s face and checked the saline line in his arm. “Don’t talk. Just rest, sir.”

“I thought you called an air ambulance,” Scully said to Miller through the headset.

The medic who had been monitoring Mulder turned to her. “FEMA is the only service in operation right now. Martial law is now in effect throughout the United States to bring order while they sort out what’s happening.”

“Did you see the lights?” Scully asked.

The medic put a looked up front to the pilot and then back to her. “No.”

“You didn’t see a flying ship?” she asked. “Something that you might call a UFO but a ship with white lights?”

The man looked her and held a finger to his mask. He pulled the mask down from his lips and mouthed the words ‘not here’. She suddenly felt paranoia take over. Why later? Were they being listened to?

The helicopter landed on the pad over the parkade and a crew came to escort them. Mulder, Miller and Scully were moved quickly to the tents in front of a network of portable buildings that had been hastily put together. Scully recognized these as elegant command centres when a dirt ground wouldn’t do.

“These folks were on the bridge!” the medic told the person escorting them towards the portable buildings that held the first bay of decom showers.

People in orange decontamination suits were moving doctors and nurses into a sectioned off area. There were no name badges on any of the suits. No one had names or faces. This was a swarm of workers pushing towards a common goal like bees or ants. The hospital was probably overrun with people looking for a way to stop the oncoming illness and the makeshift structure was necessary to work.

“Did you experience any cross contamination?” the suited man asked the medic and the man shook his head. “Get checked by the responder team and head back out there. They want all of the exposed persons rounded up.”

“We’re not contagious!” Scully told the man in the decontamination suit as she was ushered along a hallway. Mulder was being wheeled on a gurney by two others in orange protective suits and he was struggling to remain calm. Miller was in front in a wheelchair being pushed by another individual. “Do you hear me? You _have_ to listen to me. I’ve given a vaccine to my husband-”

“You’ll do well to listen when we instruct you through this process,” the man said sternly.

“Miller!” a voice called from outside the first tent. Scully tried to see over the crowd until she finally caught a glimpse of the red hair of Agent Liz Einstein. She had been dressed in scrubs with a yellow sign around her neck and a face mask on. “ _Please_! Miller!”

“Liz!” Miller called from his wheelchair and Einstein broke through the barrier of FEMA agents to rush to his side. “You’re okay.”

They stopped as Mulder was unstrapped from the gurney. He held the IV of his vaccine in his hands against his chest and she quickly assessed he was doing better than on the bridge. His eyes looked less wild and feverish. The sweat was gone from his brow and his breathing had returned to normal.

Miller and Einstein had their hasty reunion and Mulder and Scully tried their best to avoid staring but it was difficult not to watch. Einstein pulled her mask off her face as she assessed him with a sad smile. It was the softest Scully had seen her face since their discussion in the hallway in Texas.

“The vaccine Agent Scully and I created worked,” she said as a tear fell down her cheek.

“Good,” he said and sniffed. Miller was holding on to her biceps and rubbing his thumbs across her arms. “Maybe I’m not a lost cause after all.”

“You’re not. We’ll fix you too,” Einstein promised. “They’re letting me help treat the patients. Since I’ve been vaccinated, they don’t think I need a suit.”

They were speaking so professionally with one another but their touches were more intimate than professional partners. A flash of Scully and Mulder during their first year together passed through her mind where he was a comfort during times of loss and fear. Scully wondered if Miller and Einstein would head down the same path as she did with Mulder or if they had already crossed that line.

“You’re going to have to go through decontamination again,” the man pushing Miller said and pulled her to stand up.

“Agent Einstein!” Scully called as Miller and Einstein were taken into one decontamination shower bay away from her and Mulder.

“I’ll find you when you’re out of the showers,” Einstein called. “It’s going to be okay!”

As Scully and Mulder were moved across the hallway, she glanced over to see Einstein and Miller being stripped down. She knew this part all too well.

There was no propriety or dignity in a decontamination shower. Hot, scalding water pierced at the skin as though it were one thousand tiny needles with hard pressure. Men and women were stripped and scrubbed in front of one another without care for usual consideration to decorum.  
  
Scully tried to pull her arm from the man’s grasp. “Sir, excuse me. I’m an FBI agent and a medical doctor. I can help you.”

“You need to be decontaminated and assessed before we will allow that,” the man said.

Four workers in decontamination suits approached and the first man left to probably bully someone else found into being stripped and humiliated.

“What is this?” a woman asked as they took the almost empty IV bag from Mulder.

“It’s the vaccine,” Scully said. “It’s helping him.”

Another woman came up to Scully and began removing her suit. Her wedding ring and necklace were taken from her body and placed in a small ziplock bag that was labelled ‘Scully/Mulder, PE.’ PE during these times meant personal effects. Everything had a shorthand and abbreviation to ensure efficiency. Scully observed the woman putting Mulder’s ring and the address book from Mulder’s jeans in the same bag. For some reason, that failed to assuage her anxiety at that moment. What if they took the address book and they didn’t get it back? That was their only connection to finding William.

Her shoes, pants, nylons, bra, underwear and shirt would all be wrongfully burned or put into a vacuum bag before being examined to try to detect if she was carrying any of this incorrectly labelled contagion.

Mulder’s IV line was removed from his arm and they began stripping him down. “No free shows.”

He must be feeling somewhat better.

Scully covered her chest with her arms and moved through the warm air of the tent towards the showers. Harsh scrub brushes and scalding hot water moved along her skin as people in decontamination suits put her and Mulder through the motions of not the first and hopefully the last quarantine shower.

“Can you tell us what your goal is?” Scully asked as they spread the powdered soap over their backs before scrubbing.

She looked over at Mulder as he swayed under the spray of the harsh shower heads and he held both hands over his crotch. These were among the least sexy moments that two people could have as they gripped metal bars and tried to keep the water from their noses and eyes. The people touching them with thick plastic gloves pinched at skin in uncomfortable places.

They were abruptly moved from one harsh shower with plastic sheets that reminded her of shower curtains wrapped around them. They were walked into a white room with eight shower heads spread over two walls and two large square drains near the dip in the flooring. A plastic bench sat near the door with a pile of linen towels on top and medical grade issued soap, shampoo and conditioner were placed next to them. The air in the white room was cool and the person escorting them took their plastic sheets, probably to be burned.

“You have ten minutes,” the person said. “When you’re finished, you’ll be dressed in temporary garments and assessed.”

“I can’t do much with ten minutes,” Mulder said woefully as the door slammed shut.

Scully stood in the cold room with her back to the door and shivered slightly. She admonished, “ _Mulder_.”

He shrugged and moved to the wall and turned on two shower heads in the corner. “C’mon Scully. It will be like we’re back at home with the dual spray.”

“The fact that they put you and me in the same room is questionable to their methods,” she said as she moved to stand under the shower next to him.

The pressure was much more pleasant than the first showers where they try to rid the body of possible transmittable organisms. This one is for the patient to feel relaxed before more blood is drawn, swabs are taken and they are given a green light. This is the first sign of emotional awareness for the patient’s well-being during a time of high stress.

“You said I was your husband,” Mulder reminded her as he put the shampoo, soap and conditioner on the tray above her head.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “You _are_ my husband.”

He ran the pad of his thumb down the middle of her back and she glanced down to see the flesh between his legs twitch. “You know what, hold that thought.”

He walked across the room and locked the metal door and when he turned around to face her, the hunger in his eyes was evident. He thumbed his finger where his ring had been taken.

“It feels weird to be without it,” he noted.

“Mulder, we’re in a medical facility being treated for a virus that you still need to be cleared of,” Scully said as though he had already posed an argument.

“I know,” he replied simply.

This wouldn’t be the most inappropriate place they had taken solace in one another but this was hardly the time. Doctors, nurses and FEMA agents were walking around the facility. This was practically her work but that hadn’t stopped them before. There had been a time or two when they partook in salacious activities in their basement office at the J. Edgar Hoover building.

“You think someone won’t hear you?” she pointed out as she glanced at the lesion on his chest that was doing better since yesterday. The pallor of his skin was gone and he had a gleam in his eye that she recognized as a man who was about to do what it took to get what he wanted. “You’ve been sick.”

Mulder reached for his half swollen cock and gave it a lazy stroke. “I feel fine.”

“Fine like when I’m dying of cancer and I’m still chasing after clones or fine as in you’re fine?” she asked with a waver to her voice.

“You’re trembling,” he said as he reached her.

The small round non-slip pads coating the linoleum floor tickled the bottoms of her bare feet. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms and the familiar swell of her sex in anticipation of Mulder’s touch.

“I’m not,” she denied.

“Come here,” he prompted her. His lips pressed softly into her forehead and she realized she was shaking. “Don’t be scared for what’s coming.”

“The end of the world?” she lamented with a sad smile and she glanced around the small enclosure. “Mulder, this isn’t the time.”

“What if they take you away from me and this is what we have left?” he countered as he reached beyond her and turned the water to a hotter temperature.

“What if they’re watching?” she asked.

“God, I hope so,” he replied before his mouth captured hers.

He said that very thing on their porch where he took her from behind without a care if anyone on the road could see their salacious deeds. She had appreciated the thrill of possibly getting caught then too.

He pushed her against the wall as he held one arm above her head and the other hand grabbed the flesh of her ass. Their tongues slid against each other as the water coated their bodies. The hardness of his desire pressed into her belly and she whimpered into his mouth when his hand gripped her harder. He spread his legs and released her arm to position himself between her thighs.

Things were escalating quickly as they had so many times in the past. Their foreplay had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Their anxiety and stress from almost dying mixed with relief at finding one another being a precursor to finding themselves in this scenario now.

Their kisses became more needy and fervent. His hands were pulling at her flesh harder and she used her free hand to scratch at the muscles down his back. He rocked against her and she felt herself throb again in anticipation to him.

“I want you,” he whispered as he pulled his mouth from hers.

“I… _oh_ …” she began and his mouth sought hers again.

Mulder released her hand and quickly picked her up as she wrapped her legs instinctively around his waist. Their lips parted and he looked into her eyes as he pushed his hips up. She sank slowly down on his cock. It was a move only executed by two people working together and a metaphor for how they worked as professional partners.

It was almost a given when they began their romantic relationship, the hiccups wouldn’t be in the bedroom. They were far from perfect and had to work through more than she hoped but less than they anticipated. Neither of them had fetishes or bondage requests - especially after the times they had been kidnapped and hurt at the hands of a suspect or aliens. She could admit that now, he was taken by otherworldly beings that tortured him, ripped him apart and put him back together. Helping him heal after waking up from the dead was another hiccup they endured and now they were fighting back against another onslaught.

The lights in the shower flickered as they moved and she heard a loud bang in the distance that could have been thunder. Her brain was pulled back into the reality of their world ending when he pushed into the hilt. She pulled her teeth over her bottom lip and he sunk his mouth into the skin on her collarbone. As his mouth marked her in a similar spot to the lesion on his chest, she dropped her head back to the wall to let it happen.

“ _Ah_!” she cried out as he marked her again.

He pulled back and pushed in again with a sharp thrust of his hips. It hurt as much as it shot sparks of pleasure through her belly. He stretched her walls and she adjusted to accommodate him.

She saw a strain in his eyes. “Put me down.”

Not one to argue during sex, Mulder spread his legs and pulled out from her as he pushed his face into her collarbone.

“ _Sit_ ,” she instructed and nodded towards the spot on the floor where the two shower heads met.

“Thoughtful,” he noted as he obliged and she stepped across his lap.

Mulder looked up at her as she shuddered under the spray. The look on his face was one of reverence and she felt worshipped here on the scuffed floor after a decontamination shower with the world about to end. His eyes were looking at her in amazement as his mouth crooked up in a wondrous grin.

“What?” she asked as his hand rubbed up her legs and he continued to look at her in wonder.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said to her and pressed his face into the apex of her thighs.

The height difference between them was frustrating at times but when his mouth reached her centre as he sat on the floor, she felt gratitude and a rush of excitement. It was times like these that she felt grateful for all that he was in his six foot one frame versus her five foot three.

His tongue pushed between her folds and found her clit. Her fingers gripped his hair and the other hand gripped the pipe along the wall as she held on for balance. He knew exactly what he was doing at moments like this. The swelling of her sex continued and she felt the pressure of an orgasm begin to build.

As much as she wanted to spread her legs and crudely ride his face, she wanted to find her absolution before they were interrupted. It would be so easy to use his hair to control the pressure and pace of his tongue as she dipped her hips against his face. This was more of an activity spent laying down with soft bedding beneath her back. Once or twice, maybe more if Mulder spoke up, they did it on a kitchen floor and she threw a leg over his shoulder to lay across his back to invite him to stay awhile. He always obliged.

Approaching voices echoed louder outside and they looked towards the door to search for a solid source. The ground vibrated with military boots marching down the makeshift hallways and conversations were happening but nothing was lingering outside their door.

Mulder’s tongue slipped back from her sex. “ _Relax_.”

“We don’t have _time_ for this,” she admonished.

His hands took her hips firmly and pulled her down to straddle his lap. “Then stop arguing against me.”

She wished she knew how to prevent herself from wanting him. She wasn’t that strong.

Over the last three years since she left, she had fallen to the weakness of the pleasures of their bodies over and over again. It was wrong at first and then the lines between right and wrong became blurred too much.

“What should I be doing?” she asked as she settled herself on his lap with his cock pointing up between them.

“Stop being so _damn_ cute. We might die in twenty minutes from an alien invasion,” he teased.

“Mulder if the world was ending, we should be doing anything else but this,” she replied as she pulled her hips up.

He positioned himself at her entrance and she slowly and purposefully sank down on to him. It felt so familiar but exciting. Maybe it was the textured floor under her knees or the fact that the forced oxygen in the air was giving her an alternate high beside the excitement of being with him there.

“Then what are we doing?” he asked as she reached the base of his cock.

She sighed and stared into his wild green eyes that usually told her everything was going to be okay before she had the science to solidify it.

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured her as he pulled her hips up.

She began a slow, steady rhythm and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed, “How do you know?”

“I have you,” he affirmed.

She straightened her neck to look at him in the eye and grinned sadly. “Why are you such a damned romantic?”

“I’m saying sweet nothings to make this more memorable,” he chagrined as he pushed his hips up.

“ _Ah_!” she cried out as her head fell back and his hands cupped her breasts.

She arched her back to use her hands behind her as leverage on his knees. With her hips moving in small circles, his lips paid expert attention to each nipple. It was another overload of sensations that brought her closer towards her release.

Mulder began pushing up on each downstroke and she moved her hand between her folds to find her bundle of nerves at her core.

“Oh yeah,” he urged at the sight of her touching herself. “Come for me, Scully.”

She worked her finger around her clit with more pressure than she normally used but it was a necessity for her to come. It was a basic and altruistic desire that if she could have this one last thing with him, there might be hope for the future. Logic wasn’t going to argue because it was in a frenzy with her emotions trying to grasp what she just saw on that bridge. Science and reasoning took a backseat when something fantastic took over. In her lifetime, she could count on one hand where it was so blatantly in her face that all words escaped her. The same could be said about miracles and visions of religious nature. What stayed true for her, even in the darkest and most bleak times, was her faith in Mulder. Even when he didn’t have the faith in himself, she believed in him. It was only cruel that during those times, he believed in the monsters in the dark more than he believed in them and the life they tried to build away from all of that. It meant the most to her that he was able to redeem himself from that darkness and build something honest and good with her. The best part of her was wrapped up in him and their lives together.

“Hey,” he whispered and released one breast to pull her in for another kiss.

The kiss interrupted the rhythm of her hips and she used her middle digit to continue to push her towards her climax. His tongue felt cool against hers and his arms enveloped her body as she felt safe in that space where nothing was.

If this was going to be their last time together before it all fell apart and imploded, the world would know their love endured. The tightness in her belly became almost painful and suddenly she felt herself flying through the exquisite euphoria of her deliverance to rapture.

“Oh! _God_!” she cried out.

She pushed down as she felt herself swell to the point of agony while the pleasure split through her core.

Mulder’s mouth brushed along her chest and she felt the sparks of pleasure from his two-day stubble. The water rained down their backs and she felt his release begin to fill her.

They sat panting on the floor and Mulder rested his back against the wall. He pulled her to his chest and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Why tears?” he asked but there was a glistening in his eyes that conveyed his worry for what was to come.

“I’m worried this is actually the end,” she confessed. “And we didn’t stop it.”

“You and I are going to fight this together,” he assured her and she felt him begin to slowly slip from her womb.

She wanted to believe him.

They stood up and she felt the evidence of their coupling begin to slide down her legs. “Uh…Mulder, can you hand me a washcloth?”

“Are you going to be okay to clean up here?” he asked as he glanced around for anything of substance.

“Don’t look,” she said meekly with a frown and Mulder turned his back to her. She used the soap and washcloth to clean between her legs and he turned as she was finishing.

“You’re worried about modesty _now_?” he teased as if they didn’t just have sex in a FEMA facility. “I’ve seen you do that before too.”

“This is worse because of the space we’re in. I can’t…” she attempted as she gestured over towards the drain. “Or clean myself off in here.”

“Sure you can,” he replied and pointed to the drain. “Right _there_.”

She felt a lot less tense than she had a few moments ago when the intensity of their location was bearing down on them. Maybe she felt a little better knowing that certain parts of them still worked or the euphoria of her orgasm had relaxed her. Scully took a long breath and tried to push her anxiety away to appreciate the quiet of this moment before it all became hectic again.

“You’ve said that to me about showers at home too,” she reminded him. “ _No_.”

“Scully, it’s all drains,” Mulder said as though he was showing her a grey alien clearly pulling the trigger on JFK.

“Mulder no,” she said making a face and he laughed. “Just… _No_.”

“Well I wouldn’t hold it against you,” he explained simply and took the soap from her to wash his body.

The door was pushed on but due to Mulder locking it earlier, the sound of the deadbolt in the frame startled them both.

“Why is this locked?” an authoritative voice called.

“I don’t like to shower with an audience,” Mulder called back and rinsed the soap from his body.

“Open this door, Agent Mulder,” the voice ordered.

“I don’t work for you and my wife is still naked,” Mulder retorted as he put the shampoo in his hair. “We’ll be out in a minute!”

There was a short beat of silence and then the voice said, “ _Three_ minutes.”

Scully shook her head at Mulder and began to quickly shampoo and condition her hair. Mulder kissed her biceps as she washed her hair and she opened one eye to give him a look of warning.

“I’m not starting anything,” he promised.

Scully glanced down at the swelling between his legs and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You can’t lie _naked_ , Mulder.”

Mulder looked down to his groin and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That vaccine is _really_ good.”

Scully laughed and she stood on her toes to kiss Mulder’s lips. “Thank you.”

He gave her a small grin and gave her backside a small reassuring pat. “I’m here, Dana.”

With him, she had a fighting chance and that was enough for her to push on with this battle. They had more than a chance to find William.

  
***** *** *****

  
They were given yellow paper scrubs and cheap crocs while they were assessed for radiation and other exposures. After thirty minutes of blood being drawn, their saliva swabbed, throats swabbed and a blood pressure test that Scully felt was for show, they were left alone. The people in decontamination suits told Mulder and Scully to wait on a bench in a pressurized room.

“This is a lot of hurry up and wait,” Mulder noted as he pulled on the pants he was wearing. “They’re going to give us other clothes than this to wear right?”

Scully folded her arms under her breasts and shivered. “Yours fit.”

Mulder looked down at the pants that came to his ankles and the shirt that was tight across his chest. “No?”

She laughed and shook her head. “If I drop my arms, you can see down my shirt.”

He gave her a leer and she shook her head again. Mulder put his arm around Scully’s back and rubbed it reassuringly.

She looked at him in question. “How are you feeling?”

Mulder stuck his lower lip out as he stretched his back and assessed his health. “Not bad.”

She pulled on the edge of Mulder’s shirt and looked at the lesion on his chest. There were still spots that looked irritated but that could be expected after harsh scrub brushes normally used for circus animals were used to 'decontaminate' them.

“I want to get an analgesic cream for that.”

“I have alien DNA pumping in my system. I’ll be good as new,” he boasted before a coughing fit took over.

Scully rubbed her arm up his back and put her other hand on his bicep. “We need to get you well so you can help me.”

Mulder wiped at the edge of his lips with his fist. “I’ll be _fine_.”

“Don’t ‘ _I’ll be fine_ ’ to me. I invented that,” she scolded and he scoffed.

The door swung open for Miller and Einstein to be escorted in by an Army soldier wearing a surgical mask across his mouth. Miller was looking about the same as Mulder was and she wondered what they had given him.

“Wait here,” the First Lieutenant ordered them.

The door slammed shut as Miller and Einstein sat carefully on the bench across from Mulder and Scully.

“How are you feeling, Agent Miller?” Scully asked as she visually assessed him. “Your colour seems to be better and I don’t see a sign of a fever.”

Miller licked his lips as he looked around the space. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees conspiratorially and speak low. Everyone else mimicked his position.

“They gave me something that _wasn’t_ your vaccine,” Miller told them with a voice barely above a whisper. He stood up and showed the injection shot on his hip before sitting back down. Scully opened her mouth but Miller shook his head. “Liz told me everything while we were in the shower.”

Scully and Mulder shared a knowing look.

“Whatever it was, it had a FEMA label on the vial. But with my symptoms lessening and feeling of good health, I’m sure that it’s something close to what you two made here earlier.”

“Why would FEMA have something different?” Mulder asked.

Miller shrugged. “They didn’t answer many of my questions before injecting me with it and watching me fight the virus on the floor of the decontamination shower.”

“We’ll have to find that out,” Mulder said confidently.

“Okay but… _How_?” Einstein asked and shook her head. “I mean, _how_ did they get the formula?”

“How did Agent Scully?” Miller countered.

Mulder, Einstein and Miller turned to look at Scully and she gave Mulder a look that explained she didn’t want to share the information.

“How are we supposed to work together if we don’t trust each other?” Einstein replied. “I helped you create that concoction. The least you could do is tell me where you got the recipe.”

Mulder gave Scully a slight nod and she took a deep breath.

“There is a woman we used to work with in the X-Files named Monica Reyes,” Scully began. “She took over the office after Mulder and I-”

“Went on the run after Mulder was accused of killing a super soldier?” Miller offered.

“Yeah,” Mulder agreed with a pained smile.

“So you went on the run, Monica Reyes is running the X-files,” Einstein said as she motioned her hands to keep the story moving. “What does she have to do with your world-saving vaccine?”

“She was working with my former partner, John Doggett. After they shut down the X-Files, she was called by a man we’ve come to know under the name CGB Spender but we can’t be sure if that’s his real name,” Scully continued.

She glanced over to Einstein to see if she would receive a characteristic roll of her eyes. Instead, she looked worried and that somehow reassured her that she and Mulder were going to be heard.

“Spender offered her a job,” Scully explained and she looked at Mulder. “She took it.”

Mulder let out a puff of air. “What about _loyalty_ , huh?”

Typical for Mulder to break the tension during a time like this with some wry humour but Scully needed to explain what was really going on.

“Mulder,” she began and glanced to Miller and Einstein. “Skinner knows about her job. He _asked_ her to take it.”

“She’s been working as a double agent?” Mulder whispered excitedly and she nodded. “Old Smokey doesn’t have much patience for that.”

Scully nodded in agreement. “If she’s found out-”

“Car bomb?” Mulder offered. “Back alley assassination? Good old fashioned disappearance disguised as an alien abduction?”

“For those reasons alone and Monica Reyes’ safety, that information won’t go beyond this conversation,” Einstein assured them and Miller nodded in agreement.

“The man we saw in Spartanburg was Spender?” Miller clarified.

Mulder shrugged. "Not entirely but yes."

Miller frowned. "What is his whole involvement in this?”

“You’d be surprised how much of our world’s history is connected to his ‘work’ and associates,” Mulder said, holding up bunny ears around the word work. “The assassination of presidents, the appointment of new ones, cover-ups of global conspiracies and working with the same beings that were trying to locate him on the bridge.”

“You’re _sure_ they were after Spender?” Scully asked.

“I’m certain of it.”

“I wonder if the address book I borrowed will have his true location,” Mulder mused. “Do you think Monica knew that the Spender I met was a clone?”

She shook her head to say she didn’t know. Mulder coughed again and she reached her hand across to feel his forehead. She frowned when she noted a rise in temperature.

“I’m fine,” he told her as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to pull it down from his face. He kissed it gently and the edges of her mouth moved up with a smile. “I’m okay. I’m _hot_ from the shower.”

Mulder winked and she shook her head at him with a smile. Einstein cleared her throat and Scully looked away from Mulder.

“Agent Mulder,” Einstein began.

“Sorry,” Mulder apologized and coughed again. “Scully?”

Scully shook her head. “I think she does.”

Mulder gave Scully a worried look. “You’ll need to find her and get that address book back.”

“Me?” Scully asked.

He was perspiring again and his skin lost the pinkish hue since their lovemaking. “I’m-”

His words stopped as soon as they started and Mulder started to fall forward. Miller jumped up to catch him as he began to slump from the bench and onto the cell floor.

“Jesus! _Mulder_!” Scully cried as she knelt down beside him on the floor. “Mulder!”

His eyes were looking through her and he was non-responsive. His pulse was thready and his shirt was soaked with sweat.

“Someone call a medic!” Scully called. “We need help!”

***** *** *****

Scully stood on the opposite side of the glass while Mulder was being examined in an isolation room on the fourth floor of Our Lady of Sorrows. They had been rushed from the portables and tented areas into the hospital so quickly, she could hardly make heads or tails of how FEMA had turned the facility into a full quarantine system. The portables were still being used to process anyone they found who was sick while the most critical patients were taken inside the hospital.

The medical personnel who had been given the vaccine Scully made were currently working alongside FEMA but no one looked happy about it. There was a looming feeling of fear and hesitation in the air. Nothing sounded as it usually did at the hospital. The priests and nuns kept the hospital quiet and respectful but it never felt this dire to walk down the halls.

They wouldn’t allow her to administer any medical attention or be present as they were working on making him better. No matter how much she argued that as his physician and that she should be helping, she was kept away from him. It was the first time in over twenty years that she had been denied access to him and that scared her.

He went into respiratory distress and a breathing tube was currently down his throat as his lungs fought the inflammation they suffered from being exposed to the clone of CGB Spender. In the past, the treatment for such exposure was a round of antivirals. She asked they at least try that same method as they kept her separated from Mulder. She wanted to push the First Lieutenant to her right over and barge in so she could at least hold his hand.

The FEMA doctors asked her to keep a surgical mask on after they gave her a better pair of scrubs to wear. She stood with her hand clenched into a fist and she pressed it against her mouth through the mask as she tried to regulate her breathing.

“Are you feeling all right, ma’am?” the First Lieutenant asked her.

“I’m angry I’m being kept from my husband while you fail to listen to me about what will help him,” Scully replied as she lowered her arms to her sides. “I should be in there.”

“We administered the antivirals,” he replied without emotion. “It’s still not safe for you to be in there.”

“I’m not going to get sick,” Scully argued.

“We don’t know that,” he replied flatly. “Your friends should be clear to come up for observation shortly.”

“What are you worried about?” she asked.

“That’s out of your security clearance, ma’am,” he answered.

Scully put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you make it my security clearance? I’m his medical doctor. I’m an FBI agent. I created the very thing that is saving a lot of lives-”

“It possibly _endangered_ his,” the First Lieutenant cut her off.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said as she took a step towards him.

“Agent Scully?” a voice called her from the doorway.

She turned her head to see A.D. Skinner in fresh hospital scrubs and there was an obvious sign of the virus wearing off of him.

“Sir,” she said as she stepped back from the soldier.

“You can wait outside, soldier,” Skinner ordered.

The First Lieutenant opened his mouth to argue. “But-”

“I’m an Assistant Director at the FBI. My security clearance and pay grade triple yours. Not to mention I was a former Marine Staff Sergeant,” Skinner said in a voice with authority that made Scully’s back stiffen. “I was told by your commander, Colonel Patel to order you to leave us while we discuss Agent Mulder’s condition.”

The First Lieutenant cleared his throat and gave Scully a disgruntled look before he left her and Skinner alone.

“What are you doing?” Skinner asked as the door closed on the isolation bay.

“I’m trying to find out what the hell is happening. What are you doing?” Scully asked. She noted the rash on his face and neck. “When did you get here? How are you feeling?”

Skinner sighed. “I’m fine. I was given the vaccine.”

“Not a booster shot made by FEMA?” Scully clarified.

“What? No.” Skinner said and showed Scully his forearm where he had a bandage from an IV drip. “Tell me about the booster shot.”

“As far as I know, it was created by FEMA with the same technology that Monica gave me,” Scully reported in a voice above a whisper.

“How would they get the formula?” Skinner asked quietly as they approached the glass. “Where?”

“Is Monica working with any other agencies?” Scully questioned.

Skinner opened his mouth and then closed it as he decided against what he was about to say.

“Sir,” Scully prompted. “ _Please_.”

The nurse on the other side of the glass looked up from Mulder’s body as he breathed slowly in and out and gave them a discerning look.

“Can she hear us?” Scully asked.

The nurse went back to taking Mulder’s vitals and Scully checked the intercom button on the wall. It was off.

“We’re safe,” Scully said.

“We need to get Mulder out of here,” Skinner told her urgently.

The nurse exited the isolation room Mulder was being kept in and disposed of her gloves and protective jacket in the disposal bin. She gave them a strange look before leaving them alone in the observation room. The door clicked shut and there was a beat of nothing between them.

Scully turned back to watching the heart rate monitor as it displayed his vitals. Things were improving but it would take time.

“We can’t move him until he is doing better,” Scully replied quickly. “We need to get him well.”

“What do you expect to do in the meantime?” Skinner asked her.

“I’m going to find William and ensure this goes no further,” Scully told him. “We’ll fight the future. All of us. _Together_.”

“I can help,” Monica Reyes announced from the doorway.


	23. Get Out

Monica Reyes had been escorted past the quarantine showers without incident and into the hospital by an Army soldier with the same clout as though she was the administrator rather than another FBI agent. Her stern face at the First Lieutenant that escorted her was not the Monica Reyes that Scully had created a friendship with. She was dressed in a black business suit with her hair pulled back and a surgical mask across her face. The protective mask was an item that Scully wondered if it was for show.

The First Lieutenant stood behind Monica with a Browning 9mm on his hip and C7 Automatic Rifle strapped over his shoulder. Handguns didn’t belong in places of medicine and Scully felt a rush of frustration and anger at the way FEMA had taken over.

Growing up in a household under a Navy captain gave her the discipline to navigate her life with control and restraint where it mattered including academia and professional matters. Once entering the world of medicine, she understood that regimented lifestyle often conflicted when it came to saving lives. One might think that the orderly ways of the military would help in hospitals, however there needed to be room for flexibility without going through a chain of command for every possible scenario and plan out every potential outcome. Science appreciated the planning and forethought of the military but these soldiers had no business walking through the halls with weapons when lives were at stake.

“You can leave us,” Monica ordered.

The ten by ten foot ‘clean’ room had become slightly more crowded when Einstein and Miller were brought by another soldier in similar scrubs to Scully’s. The two young men in face masks saluted her before closing the door behind them.

Monica approached Scully and took her hand, her face transformed into one less harsh and a little warmer. “I’m sorry about the theatrics. You can all take off your masks. We’re safe.”

“Where have you been?” Scully asked her as she took off her surgical mask. Monica did the same as she glanced at Einstein and Miller. “You can trust them, Monica.”

Monica gave the new agents careful consideration before she opened her mouth to speak. “I was checking on a few things.”

“The location of Agent Scully’s son being one of them?” Einstein asked tersely as she took off her own mask. “Or giving our vaccine to FEMA so they could make a booster shot in case we failed?”

“Liz,” Miller warned her.

Monica held up her hand. “It’s all right. I deserved that.”

“How did FEMA get a booster shot of the vaccine formula?” Scully asked.

“William’s DNA has been kept on file by the military in case of such an emergency. I was sent by the Smoking Man to give them the vaccine formula when FEMA took over. I took a detour and went to you first,” Monica explained. “Dana, you know the dangers of the job I’m in now. I had to fulfil my orders from Spender.”

“Why would he do that?” Skinner asked as he put his hands on his hips. “How does that help him at all?”

“Walter, you know that when FEMA takes over, a small portion of the syndicate comes back into power,” Monica reminded him gently. “These men aren’t voted into power and FEMA isn’t either. They need a stem of the government that doesn’t have any consequences from angry citizens. They had a list of selected individuals on file. Files you saw Dana.”

“With Mulder,” Scully realized. It’s all connected together. “The smallpox files.”

“Exactly,” Monica said.

Scully crossed her arms under her breasts and thumbed the mask in her hand. “How did they have his DNA?”

“At every vaccination appointment when he was a child, one of our doctors took and maintained up-to-date records of William,” Monica explained. “Including his DNA. Since then, he's had annual visits. He’s not the only one we’ve been keeping an eye on but he’s important.”

“ _No_ ,” Scully argued. “No! I gave him up so he would be out of their reach! I did this to protect him and you’re telling me they had him the whole time? How the hell did these bastards find him?”

Scully covered her face with her hands. Her body was vibrating as the idea of her son growing up away from her was all for nothing.

“You gave him up so he would be safe, Dana,” Monica assured her as she pulled Scully’s hands down from her face. “Dana, look at me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all those years ago when Mulder was in hiding?” she asked as a tear fell down her cheek. “I reached out to you-”

“Because they would have found Mulder and taken him too,” Monica said. “You know that the Smoking Man has always wanted to pass down his position to Mulder. It would have put you both in danger. I couldn’t risk you finding the same fate as I have. This isn’t a life I would wish on anyone. I’ve lost everyone including John… and myself.”

Scully’s chin clenched and she took a long breath. “I _can’t_ accept this.”

“Agent Scully-” Skinner began and he cleared his throat. “I can assure you that what she’s saying is true. I’ve heard the tapes of Spender ordering them to find Mulder. The precautions I asked you to take when you came out of hiding were for a reason.”

Scully once argued to Mulder that not everyone was plotting to deceive, inveigle and obfuscate. He sat on the edge of a desk as he ate a sunflower seed with a look on his face that made her feel the tingly burgeoning embers of desire for him. It frustrated her to feel those things and that he had been right.

“I want people to start telling me _the truth_ ,” Scully demanded. “I want people to tell me what they know about my son and what the hell is going on.”

“Why would they watch William grow up and not take him with the Smoking Man?” Einstein asked and shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense to keep him someplace else.”

“None of the children born like William were kept with the remaining members of the syndicate. Jeffrey Spender grew up with the Smoking Man as a father and I imagine that Spender realized how history would be doomed to repeat itself if he had kept William close,” Monica told them. “Without Mulder with Spender too, it wouldn’t have worked. He loved him-”

Scully scoffed and Skinner gave her a warning look. “He has a terrible way of showing love. That man doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

Monica let out a breath. “But he couldn’t make his legacy work with a family close. He’s _not_ capable of that.”

Scully wiped a tear from her eye angrily and felt her body shaking again.

“William was never aware he was anything different than a normal boy growing up in Wyoming,” Monica reassured her. “I could never tell Skinner William’s adoptive last name but when I sent in my reports about the plans for colonization, I assured Skinner that William was okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that when I asked you to look into things?” Scully asked. “Why the smoke and mirrors with the adoption file?”

“My first job is to protect Agent Reyes,” Skinner told her. “I gave you what I was allowed to. If I had known this was happening-”

“You might not have let the world end without me finding William?” Scully finished for him acerbically.

“I’m sorry,” Skinner atoned and she heard in his voice that he meant it.

She didn’t care.

“I want to see my son,” Scully told them with a shaky voice.

“I’m going to do everything I can to take you to him.” Monica reached out to Scully but she pulled her hands away. “I’m sorry, Dana. I did what was best for William and you need to believe me.”

“I want everyone to stop _lying_ to me,” she replied. “I need to find him so I can stop him from being turned into some kind of lab rat.”

“Agent Scully, when FEMA discovers that you’re the source of the vaccination then you might be turned into a lab rat too,” Einstein pointed out. “I think we can all agree that you’re not safe here.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that her own DNA could be used against her by the Army and FEMA. She looked through the glass at Mulder as he slept with a tube down his throat and a monitor beeping at every beat of his heart.

“I can’t leave Mulder,” she said as she felt the tears begin to bubble up.

She was overwhelmed with emotions again.

“When can we move him?” Miller asked.

“Antiviral medications administered two hours ago,” Einstein read from his chart. “What is the rate of effectiveness after being administered?”

“The antivirals he’s on are working but it will take another couple of hours before he wakes up,” Scully said. “If he wakes up. I don’t know how much his body has shut down from what he went through and the virus. I have to be here when he opens his eyes.”

“It might take a few hours for me to get you out of here,” Reyes said. “If they become at all aware that you carry the same genome in the vaccine, you won’t be going anywhere. They’ll take you into a lab, pull blood and samples from you-”

“ _Monica_ ,” Skinner cut her off.

“Dana needs to understand that she can’t stay,” Monica told him. “Even if it means leaving Mulder behind.”

“I can’t leave him behind,” Scully insisted. “I _won’t_.”

“This military control can’t last,” Einstein theorized. “Eventually they’re going to figure out that once whatever was here is gone, they’ll have to turn things back over to local authorities and how they were before.”

“You don’t understand how long FEMA has been planning to take over the United States since Roswell,” Monica told them.

“Why would Spender tell you this?” Scully asked.

“He trusts Monica,” Skinner told Scully as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He honestly believed she sold her alliance to him because of the vaccine he gave her.”

The truth of everything began to weigh heavily on her and she realized she needed to turn to Monica Reyes as she had when William was born. It wasn't ideal but it was going to be the best solution she had.

“I’m glad you’re here, Monica,” Scully began. “But none of this is making me feel any better.”

Monica looked at everyone as she spoke. “The Army will change everything. Police forces will be dismantled. Hospitals will be turned into military posts and everyone will be at the mercy of a government that doesn’t vote its members into power.”

“What can we do?” Miller asked.

“We might need a distraction when it’s time to leave,” Monica told them. “Let me see what I can do.”

  
***** *** *****

It was a long two-hour wait while the antivirals worked their way through Mulder’s system and they were able to remove the breathing tube. It was another hour before his eyes opened and he smiled at Scully while Skinner, Einstein and Miller waited out in the observation room.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she glanced at the heart rate monitor.

She was currently reading his chart to try to make heads or tails of the notes the nurse put in after his round of antiviral medicine. The room was cool but that was necessary to fight the alien virus.

His vitals looked good and she would guess the vaccine was helping him. FEMA had given him another booster shot when he woke up that rapidly changed his symptoms from moderate to stable. Whatever was in William’s DNA also helped to aid the burns in Mulder’s throat from being exposed to the clone. He was on the mend but he had a long way to go.

Mulder coughed and smiled at her weakly. “My throat is a little sore.”

“That’s from the breathing tube,” Scully reminded him and handed him a cup with water. Mulder took a small sip and she set the plastic cup on the tray by his bed. “You’ll notice I’m not in protective gear and neither are our friends beyond the window.”

Mulder glanced towards the glass to see Skinner, Einstein and Miller looking on with concern. He raised his hand and waved lazily for Miller to wave back. Einstein nudged him and Skinner crossed his arms across his chest. They were waiting impatiently to get Scully out of there to find William but the entire hospital was still on lockdown. While none of the patients were being forced into wearing protective gear and they had ruled out an airborne contagion, FEMA was still treating the situation as a level 5 emergency.

The Army and FEMA were going to maintain a level of fear-inducing stress on those under Martial law to ensure they kept control.

“Why all the smoke and mirrors still if they can tell the contagion isn’t what they originally thought, Scully?” Mulder asked as he slowly sat up. “I mean, what am I still doing in here?”

“Lay down, Mulder,” Scully urged.

He complied but made a face about it as he laid back down.

“We have to get your blood pressure regulated before you can sit up. You went into respiratory distress from the smoke you inhaled at Spender’s house,” she explained as Mulder took her hand in his.

He pulled her towards him and she sat on the bed near his hip for him to reach out and rub her side. Touching her in these moments was reassuring to her but also for Mulder, who craved affection more than he let on. The man was a very tactile creature.

“That mixed with your symptoms and the stress of a quarantine shower-”

“That wasn’t _stressful_ , that was _therapeutic_ ,” he corrected her and kissed the back of her hand.

“Mulder, you suffered respiratory failure from hypoxemia which is low oxygen in your blood,” she explained. “That’s _not_ good. Your body can’t go through that kind of stress repeatedly. I was scared.”

“Don’t be scared. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he assured her. He released her side and pulled on the hospital gown to look at the lesion on his chest. “This doesn’t look as bad anymore and I’m feeling much better.”

“Despite your condition now, you’re on your way to making an amazing recovery,” she admitted. “You need your rest…”

“Why do you look like you’re about to give me bad news?” he asked with a nervous smile.

“We have to find William,” she said.

“I agree,” he said but he wasn’t understanding why.

Scully took a slow breath and licked her lips before she explained what was going on. “I have to tell you more bad news… Monica told me that William’s DNA and his whereabouts have been kept on file with Spender and FEMA since I gave him up.”

Mulder’s jaw clenched and she could see his controlled outrage flash in his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“According to her, he’s never been in any danger,” she said shakily. “But if FEMA finds him before we do, he might be taken with the other children to become lab rats. I’m scared for what’s ahead of him, Mulder. He can’t face that future alone. I am _determined_ to save him from that hell.”

“ _Scully_ -”

She broke again and tears began to run down her cheeks. “I gave him up once and I can’t let him be out there again. Not when I know he’s in danger.”

“You’re worried about leaving me here,” he surmised. “Are you leaving me alone? Is there a threat here?”

“Skinner, Miller and Einstein can’t leave,” she promised. “This quarantine is a facade but they’re keeping everyone here. You’re all being moved to another area of the hospital shortly to monitor your progression on the booster shot they gave you.”

“Why are you scared?” he asked. He coughed a few times and Scully handed him his water. When he swallowed a mouthful, he raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. “Scully? What is it?”

“I’m torn right now,” she admitted.

“Do they know how you created the vaccine?” Mulder asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “If they do-”

“Then you’re in danger too,” he finished for her. “You can’t stay here. If FEMA finds out you’ve got anything to do with this vaccine, especially what’s in there-”

Mulder poked at her stomach and she pushed his hand down.

“Don’t-”

“You have to get out of here, now,” he urged. “Don’t stay here for me. I’ll get out with them. I can’t be the reason you’re both in jeopardy, Scully.”

“You’re-”

“No,” he cut her off. “You _have_ to go.”

“William wasn’t the only child who grew up with the special DNA that FEMA needs for the booster shots,” Scully told him. “That address book you found apparently has the location of those children.”

“Some of them will be young adults now, Scully,” Mulder said as he rubbed her hip. He coughed again and she could see on his face that he needed to be under observation. For all the times they spent in hospitals, Mulder leaving AMA never did him or her any good. “Don’t leave without the book.”

She knew what he was referring to. Their personal effects bag had their wedding rings and the address book inside.

“What if something happens to you while I’m looking for William?” she asked with a hitch in her voice.

Mulder nodded towards the window. “You’re leaving me with Skinman, Einstein and Miller. I’ll be good as gravy.”

“I don’t want to do this alone,” she admitted with a hitch in her voice. “I need you with me to put the rest of this puzzle together. What if I can’t…”

“Scully, you’ll see the picture clearly without me holding you back. I’ll slow you down. William needs you to protect him. You’re his mother. You should be with him. I’ll be there with you as soon as I can,” he insisted.

“You’re his father,” she reminded him. “He needs us _both_.”

“He’ll have us.” Mulder pulled the heart monitor lead off his chest and an alarm began blaring in the room. “ _Go!_ ”

“ _Mulder_!” she reacted.

“Dana,” Monica buzzed through on the intercom. “We have to go now.”

“No,” Scully said to Monica through the glass. “Not yet.”

The doors opened on Mulder’s isolation room and Monica stood at the entrance. “Now, Dana.”

“ _Go_ , Scully.”

Scully pressed her lips to his ear and told him where to meet her. To anyone else, it would have sounded like an obscure place but he understood. The look in his eyes conveyed he knew where to go when he was well enough to travel.

Three doctors entered the room with face masks on and pushed Scully aside. Mulder attempted to mimic his earlier responses to a heart problem while they rushed around him.

“I’ll find you!” he called after her as she was pulled from his room.

If not, she had to get back to him with William. They needed to be together as a family.

 

***** *****

 

Our Lady of Sorrows was on secure lockdown and at the moment, there were armed soldiers walking through the halls, cataloguing each patient and their symptoms for FEMA.

Scully was told by Monica that those who had received the vaccine she made were doing better and moved to a quarantine area on the hospital grounds for observation. The party line that FEMA would continue to report was that anyone exposed and treated previously at Our Lady of Sorrows could be carrying a contagion for Hantavirus. Everyone in the observation room knew that the Hantavirus wasn’t the real reason they were being separated from those who had the booster shot. The source of the vaccine had yet to be revealed to the Army and FEMA. It was collectively agreed to keep Scully out of it.

Einstein told them that Nurse Sandeep had been working with the FEMA agents to administer the booster shots. Over the course of the years working together, Sandeep had shared very little about her private life with Scully or anyone else at the hospital. Scully hoped that the privacy she maintained to herself also extended to what she shared about others.

As the sirens in Mulder’s room were blaring and he continued to rip the leads off his chest, Einstein and Miller approached Scully with her personal effects.

“The address book is still in here,” she sighed with relief. Her fingers brushed the bottom of the bag and she turned it upside down in hopes of retrieving her necklace and their rings.

“ _Damn_ ,” she cursed.

“This isn’t the priority,” Monica urged. “We have to go.”

The alarms in Mulder’s room were still blaring but she had to trust he was okay. It was just a symbol of their commitment, not the actual thing that kept them together. Her necklace wasn’t in the bag either and it made her heart ache for her mother a little.

The First Lieutenant that Monica had dismissed earlier was waiting at the end of the hallway with his hand on his holstered pistol. “Ready, Ma’am?”

“Yes, Andrew,” Monica confirmed. “Is it clear?”

Andrew nodded and held his arm out in the direction he wanted them to head towards. The stairwell along this hallway lead to another hallway that eventually would take them to the edge of the hospital grounds.

When Mulder was still in hiding and itching for time out, he would come visit her through this entrance. The hospital had usually been a safe space for them. He brought a bag of sunflower seeds, two iced teas and a frivolous magazine Scully would never buy for herself. They would hold up in the double office she shared as a respite from the patients that couldn’t be saved. He was her constant, helping her decompress when life and her work felt bleak.

It was why he felt so surprised she didn’t tell him about Christian because they spent a lot of their time discussing her work. He wanted to try to help her connect the dots outside of science and push her to look beyond what her comfort zone allowed. She had too many fears to push the envelope because these were other people’s children she was trying to save. That job was Scully’s penance for forfeiting her rights as a parent to William. Even more so now, it felt like a bitter reminder that she could have kept him all these years instead of suffering the loneliness of a life as a mother without her child.

Hopefully, FEMA and the Army were unaware of this well-known secret entrance. Scully wasn’t made aware of how much hospital staff were cooperating with the Army or if they were resisting. If Father Ybarra had any say, he would love nothing more than to allow the military and an outside force to boss around the doctors and nurses in some sadistic way that gave him pleasure. This same man, however, hated to relinquish power and therefore she hoped he kept some things a secret.

“I can take you to the end of the tunnel where an associate will be waiting,” Andrew told them as they quickly walked down the corridor.

Every few steps they would look over their shoulders or pause to listen for anyone coming. Scully felt her body jump into a high stress mode of anxiety and she tried to calm herself but it was futile.

Scully looked at the embroidered name tag on Andrew’s jacket. A.D. Michaud. The name of Darius Michaud was forever etched in her mind from the incident in Dallas. It was burned on her brain what she and Mulder were blamed for and the lives that were lost. They were silent as they entered the hallway, hoping to avoid attracting any attention to their secret escape.

The long cement tunnel was used from time to time to transport supplies into the hospital from an old access road at the edge of the property. It was built at a time when teenage pregnancy and being admitted for mental disturbances were something the medical community needed to hide from the world. There was a time where Our Lady of Sorrows actually performed exorcisms on anyone considered mentally unstable. Through that dark history, a long list of young men and women were treated with lacklustre methods and even less successful results. Their treatments began with a middle of the night drop off when their screams couldn’t be heard by neighbouring businesses. Young pregnant women who weren’t able to keep their children and forced to give them up for adoption were brought to this hospital the same way. It was all untoward and devious and it gave her a sick feeling in her stomach to think of a young woman, scared and pregnant and not able to hold onto the life inside of her due to societal standards.

It was completely hypocritical. Young men and women left home frequently to start new lives but trying to bring a new one into the world out of wedlock and in their teens was looked down upon. For all she loved that the church brought her, she did not find any solace in the judgmental nature that religion brought upon society.

Small bubble lights were hung at the centre of the tunnel every five feet and their amber glow flickered around them as FEMA increased their quarantine space on the field beside the hospital. The only sound in her ears was her heart pounding and she could assess that her adrenaline was pumping. As they neared the end of the corridor, Scully tried to force herself to breathe through her panic. They were going to make it out.

“Andrew was your father a patriot?” Scully asked referring to his father Darius Michaud who died in Dallas Texas in 1998.

She regretted asking in such a way because Michaud could very well be a common name that she wasn’t aware of. Monica glanced back at Scully as they continued to walk in silence.

Andrew put his palm over the handle of the door and looked at Scully solemnly. “He was. You guys have twenty minutes until I have to call it in that you’re missing.”

Monica pushed the door open and the cold night air hit them while Scully still stood in her hospital scrubs. She needed proper shoes and clothing to do this. She couldn’t very well save William while wearing hospital scrubs without a bra.

Perhaps Monica would allow them to stop at a 24-hour Target on their way so she could get some essentials. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t have a wallet. This was a bad idea. She totally unprepared and starting to think of reasons to turn back. Then she was reminded of all the reasons she should go and felt her resolve settle. William needed her.

They stood at the door and looked at Andrew who was the spitting image of his father as a younger man.

“Be safe, Andrew,” Scully said as her parting goodbye.

“Fight the future,” Andrew said as a secret code salute to the cause.

“Fight the future,” Monica replied and she pulled Scully into the cold dark air of the night.

The air was cool and she didn’t have proper clothing on. She shivered as they stepped from the covered landing up to the first step. Monica glanced around for the next person in the chain to take them further but they saw no one.

“Dana,” Monica said quietly. “We have to run towards that road there without being spotted.”

The access road was about fifteen feet from the top of the stairs. Scully and Monica crouched down and looked to the darkness for a sign.

“Something’s wrong,” Monica whispered as her eyes scanned the treeline for a signal. “I don’t see the driver.”

Scully looked around the area that was quiet. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sounds in the distance. A creek ran to the right of the property and she could hear the hum of the electricity running through the building. Exhaust fans blowing forced air out of small panels along the walls and in the distance, she could faintly hear a car running.

“There,” Scully pointed straight ahead. “I hear an engine.”

Monica looked in each direction. “Run!”

Scully sprinted as fast as she could towards the break in the treeline along the path. She was almost out of the clearing when she heard a gasp and a whimper behind her. Scully stopped to see Monica on the ground.

“ _No_!” she cried out and ran towards Monica. “Monica!”

As Scully reached her side and knelt beside her, Monica groaned and she felt a sigh of relief she wasn’t dead. She quickly assessed that it wasn’t a head wound and saw the darkened material on her arm.

A shot was fired near Scully and she flinched as she put her arms up to protect her. But she couldn’t leave Monica there.

“Monica!”

Another shot was fired and the ground four feet from them spat up as a bullet pierced the gravel.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Monica said with a low moan. Scully helped her to sit up and she saw the material of her jacket soaked with blood. “You need to leave me here and go on.”

“Not a chance,” Scully said quietly. “I can stitch you up when we get to safety.”

They ran crouched low to the ground as another shot was fired into the gravel near their feet. Three more shots hit the ground as they ran along the path and she hated that she didn’t have her gun to turn around and fire back.

It only took moments for them to pass through the clearing and reach the car. Scully felt relief wash over her until she spotted the driver dead at the trunk from a gunshot to the head.

“ _Fuck_!” she cursed and put Monica in the passenger seat.

Scully found a first aid kit in the trunk and a bag of clothing. She took the driver’s guns and jacket before putting the car in drive and heading west.

 

***** *** *****

 

The side of the highway outside of Rosemont was quiet. Army roadblocks had been set up along the 270 highway which diverted Scully and Reyes to Highway 190. They diverted again to the 267 West. They drove north into an area of Maryland that seemed to be untouched by the crisis in Washington.

They had been driving for well over an hour and Scully was worried if they didn’t stop soon, Monica might slowly bleed out before they found William.  
Eventually when it felt safe, Scully pulled the car to the side of the road to patch up the wound on Monica’s arm.

As they were parked on the shoulder of the road, Scully pulled out the medical kit and helped Monica in the backseat to examine her. The towel she had wrapped around Monica’s arm was bright red with blood but it had slowed considerably since they left Our Lady of Sorrows.

Scully had helped Monica shed her jacket and shirt on the side of the road so she could start suturing. It was a sight to behold if anyone were to drive upon them however in their travels, the roads had been quiet. Monica sat on the bench of the back seat with blood on her side, holding her soiled blouse across her bare torso. Scully still hadn’t stopped for clothing or shoes and the socks she had on were two sizes too big.

She threaded the needle and looked up at the gaping wound between Monica’s bicep and triceps muscles. “Your bleeding slowed.”

Monica glanced down at her arm where she was holding another towel to catch the blood from ruining the rest of her clothing. “Sort of.”

Scully adjusted her latex gloves and handed Monica a small flashlight to hold over her injury. “I need you to hold this. I have to say… Um, you are bleeding…but it’s a good sign.”

Monica dropped her shirt into her lap and held the flashlight so that Scully had a better view.

“You mean I’m not expelling green foam that closes your throat off and burns your eyeballs inside your skull?” Monica guessed and Scully tightened her lips. “You can look at the back of my neck for a green lump if you want to check if I’m a super soldier.”

“Maybe they moved the lump to somewhere else with advanced technology,” Scully mused.

“Feel free to examine me. I’m real.” she said as she flashed the light over her torso. “Dana, I know what you must think of what I’ve been through.”

“Hold the light still please,” Scully requested. The first thread of the needle caused Monica to wince and Scully hissed. “Sorry.”

“Dana,” Monica prompted.

“I do have some thoughts,” she admitted as she pierced the skin a second and third time. “I’m not sure why you didn’t reach out to me to tell me the truth. I’m not sure why you didn’t warn me that the Spender you were working with was a clone.”

Monica flinched at each stitch. “I had my reasons, Dana.”  
  
Scully glanced up at the brown eyes that were asking for forgiveness and then back to her work. “I’m sure.”  
  
“I woke up every day living in fear. There was never a moment I didn’t remind myself that I was doing this for you, for Mulder and for William,” Monica pleaded.

There was a quiet beat as the birds in the distance called out and the night sky around them dropped the temperature further. How many nights had Scully been in situations like this, off a highway, performing ad hoc surgery on Mulder with a feeling of dread in the air? Too many to count.

Monica took a deep breath. “I used to prick my finger with anything sharp to see if I would bleed red blood because I was scared they had turned me into one of their creations. Every day. I cut my finger expecting my life to fall apart and felt fear and relief when I saw that it was still me inside this body. But I was a prisoner with them. I lived every day in fear. I was doing this for the safety of everyone at my own personal cost. John… he couldn’t-”

Her voice caught in her throat and she dropped the flashlight in her lap to pinch the bridge of her nose as she fought back tears. When she looked at Scully again with her brown orbs, she was searching for absolution from her friend. Monica probably didn’t have any of those left and the irony was, even despite not having to lead a double life, Scully didn’t have friends either.

“Have you heard anything from him since you returned to the FBI?” Monica asked quietly as she picked up the flashlight.

Scully shook her head as she did another stitch. “Skinner told me that he moved back to Georgia and was working as a security consultant.”

Monica nodded slowly and Scully couldn’t ascertain if that was new information to her or not.

“John would be great in a time like this,” Monica mused.

Scully smiled sadly. “He definitely was a source of strength and comfort.”

Monica watched Scully’s face closely as she finished the stitches on her arm. “Did you two ever… I mean when Mulder was dead and you were pregnant-”

“What?” Scully looked up at Monica quickly as she finished the stitches and used the scissors to cut the string.

“Did you and John… I mean I know he had feelings-”

“Monica,” Scully cut her off and she felt her cheeks flush. “No.”

“No?” Monica questioned. “The way you were with him after Mulder left, I wasn’t sure.”

“We weren’t any way,” Scully cut her off. Monica looked at Scully questioningly and eventually, Scully glanced down as she applied the bandage over Monica’s stitches. “Monica… John was a friend and nothing more. I was… scared a lot and he was just a friend and a very good partner but we were never anything romantic. I was pregnant with another man’s child.”

“You didn’t know whether he was coming back or not,” Monica pointed out. “I know you two were close.”

“Friends,” Scully reiterated. “We were never more than good friends. He’s kind and good hearted but my heart has always belonged to Mulder longer than I can recall when it wasn’t his. I wasn’t really at the point in my life where I was open to anything…”

“Nothing physical?” Monica asked her.

Scully tucked her chin down and her cheeks flushed further. “No.”

Monica nodded but Scully wasn’t sure if she believed her. Scully sighed as she finished taping the bandage to Monica’s arm.

“Monica…” she warned. “It wasn’t like that.”

Monica nodded. “Sometimes I thought maybe I was interfering. He was always so good with William-”

“So were you,” Scully reminded her. “And you were good for John. Even his ex-wife admitted that.”

“Barbara?” Monica asked and Scully nodded. “She was always a good friend but she never approached me about John. I always assumed they would get back together until ”

Scully took off her gloves and wrapped up the tools she used to stitch Monica up in one of the soiled towels. “Do you blame her?”

Monica shook her head. “No.”

“It’s funny that just made me think of Mulder and I… I don’t know if I would ever be in a place to see him happy with someone else,” she confessed as she placed the soiled towel in a grocery bag from the backseat. “In all my times of strife and sorrow, Mulder has been a constant. Even when I was having a crisis of faith, he was there. Not just as my friend but as my lover…”

Scully flushed at the idea of sharing so much with Monica. In her life, there weren’t people she sat around and dished about men with in this way. Melissa was the type to ask and Monica was the same, which is why Scully felt so drawn to Monica in the first place.

”I had spent so much time hoping and fearing for a relationship with Mulder. I went into it knowing that in our line of work things could change in an instant. I felt selfish once I finally had him to myself that I don't know if I could have... I wasn't looking for anyone else," she explained. "It's a wonderful thing to be with a person who knows you so completely that can help you through the worst parts of your life."

"Losing William," Monica offered. "You're lucky that you survived it."

"Losing a child doesn’t always allow you the space and clarity to understand why or how it happened and it definitely threatened to tear us apart.” Scully replied. “When Mulder died… or we buried him, I was pregnant and scared. After I had to give up William… John was a strong presence both of those times but never anything more.”

“Losing Luke was very hard for him and Barb,” Monica agreed as she slowly put on her blouse again. She made a face at the soiled sleeve but left it on. “I’ve never seen a man more dedicated to finding out the truth… until I met Mulder.”

Scully nodded. “It’s too bad Mulder and John didn’t realize how much they had in common while we were all in Washington together.”

“After you left the FBI, we worked well together and our relationship was wonderful,” Monica started and then stopped herself. “He is a good man and I couldn’t expect him to wait for me.”

“I thought he left you,” Scully asked her as they got into the front seat.

“He didn’t want me to do this job,” Monica explained as Scully pulled onto the highway. “And when I told him I didn’t have a choice, he told me he couldn’t watch someone else in his life be lost to something he wasn’t sure of. He was talking about losing you and Mulder.”

Mulder and John Doggett weren’t the best of friends but they certainly found a way to bond before Mulder went on the run. Their common ground was Dana Scully and the protection of the X-Files office. Once they got over posturing and territorial feelings, they seemed to have what Mulder could qualify as a friendship. John was better with people, he fit in at the FBI and people liked him. It didn’t feel right that this was going on and he didn’t know or wasn’t protected.

“Should we call him about what’s going on?” Scully asked. “Surely if there’s a vaccine and he’s at risk of the virus, he should be saved.”

Monica pressed her lips together. “I’ve sent someone for him.”

Scully stopped the car in the middle of the road and put it in park. “You did _what_?”

Monica glanced around the empty road. “Dana, we can’t stop here.”

“What did you do, Monica?” Scully asked. The road was dead and at the moment, if anyone approached, they could go around them. She put her hazard lights on. “ _Monica_?”

“I’ve sent two men to him… They were given doses of the vaccine after you finished creating it. I had an idea he might be back in Georgia and I did this at great risk without Spender’s knowledge,” Monica explained. “If there’s a chance he’s been infected, I wanted to know he could be saved.”

Scully put the car back in drive. Rain began to fall on the road and it was dark. They would need to stop for the night soon but not here. She wasn’t sure about sharing a room with Monica when the secrets piled up higher than the truths she was sharing. Everything was clouded with double talk and she just wanted her to be open and honest.

The quiet in the car took over for longer than she was comfortable with.

“I need you to stop acting like you’re still a double agent. I can’t do this if I think you don’t trust me either.”

“I _do_ trust you. It’s old habits from this work that are hard to break,” Monica replied guiltily. She looked down at her arm and then gave Scully a hopeful smile. “Maybe we can stop at a 24-hour store and get us some new clothes? Pick up some Motrin? I’m sure driving in shoes would be better?”

Scully nodded. “I think there’s a Target in Hagerstown. It’s twenty minutes from where we are now.”

Monica held up her hands, crossed across her heart and back up at her sides. “I promise, Dana. No more lies.”

She nodded. “I need to trust you. I can’t search for William if I think someone devious is in my corner instead of a friend.”

“You're right. I'm sorry....I have to make contact with the resistance when we get to the Target. I need to buy a few burner phones,” Monica explained. “We should get in touch with Skinner or your junior agents when we do.”

Scully nodded in agreement. “Let’s go shopping.”


	24. On the Run and Respite

Target had been a lucrative trip when it came to clothing and first aid supplies. They had made it in and out of the store without too many sideways glances at their appearance. Scully had dressed in a change room and brought the tags up to the register with a few changes of clothing in a suitcase. The woman ringing through their purchases didn’t comment. She wondered if the young woman had just seen everything at this point or if the recent lights in the sky had put her into a state of shock. None of the employees appeared to be sick and that somehow felt reassuring at that point.

As they drove away from the Hagerstown Target, the store went dark and the lights in the parking lot went out. Scully knew the store was open twenty-four hours and seven days a week so the blackout was noteworthy. It was ominous and foreboding for what was to come.

They drove from Hagerstown to Berkeley Springs then up into Pennsylvania towards Everett on the I-76. It was a long drive listening to crackling radio silence interrupted by short bursts of announcements from a stressed voice telling all persons to remain indoors if they are well or seek medical attention if needed. Nothing was being shared and the roads were quiet except for a few other cars heading south.

They took the I-90 North and stopped for gas outside of Toledo. The station was still brightly lit but it was abandoned. Customers were able to access the pumps with their credit cards but the store inside had been left unmanned. Monica had given Scully a credit card with a name she didn’t recognize but didn’t question it to gas up. She thought about what Tad O’Malley mentioned about banks freezing all money to virtually halt any travel plans. It would only be a matter of time until the cards stopped working.

Monica used the bathroom while Scully filled the tank. Before Monica browsed the store for food and beverages, she put a $100 bill under the edge of the register. After she filled three bags with bottles of water, juice and food, Monica left with a hopeful smile. She carried the bags with one arm while holding the wounded limb close to her body. There was something so honest and endearing about that moment that Scully felt her heart clench. This was not supposed to be their reality.

“You need to go?” Monica asked.

Scully looked around. “We’ll have to stop for sleep soon. I can go then.”

Monica carefully put the snacks in the backseat before sitting in the passenger side. She handed Scully the keys and opened a bag of salted corn chips. “Go. I can wait.”

The realization that Monica understood that trust still had to be built between them was reassuring to Scully. When she returned from the bathroom, Monica was eating the last of the salty treat. Scully took out two Motrin from the bottle in the centre console for Monica’s pain management and she washed them down with an orange juice.

“Did you get anything in that bag of goodies I might like?” Scully asked as she glanced over her shoulder to the back seat. She reached between the seats to pull a bag onto the console between them. “Chocolate covered almonds?”

“You still like those?” Monica asked. “I got the salty rice chips too that are practically health food.”

She nodded appreciatively and Monica looked briefly proud of herself. Scully put the confection bag in the cup holder and put the plastic bag behind her.

“Where are we stopping next?” she asked.

Monica pulled out the burner phone from her pocket. “I got in touch with one of the people at Spender’s meeting place. We need to keep heading west.”

“Do they have a lead on William?” Scully asked as she turned to look at Monica. “Where are we going?”

“He’s there, in Canada,” Monica said. “His adoptive parents died at the hospital in Wyoming.”

“How did they die?” Scully asked. “Is William okay?”

“Dana…” Monica hesitated. “I think it would be best not to know too much until we get there and get him out.”

“Why? Get him out of where?” Scully asked and Monica hesitated. She didn’t care that she was being pushy. “Monica, where is he? Is he in danger? Who has him? What happened?”

“Dana, slow down. I don’t want him to think for a second you were involved in any of this. I just want to be the person who brings you two together,” Monica explained.

Scully turned the engine over on the SUV and watched the gas gauge go from E up to F. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark anymore, Monica.”

Monica reached across the space between them and put her hand on Scully’s. She tucked her fingers under Scully’s palm as it rest on the gear shift. “I’m sorry that you’re in this position and that I’m not more of a comfort to you. I honestly wish you and Mulder could be making this trip together.”

She felt the furrow of her brows relax and she sighed. “I’m not angry at you and you are being a comfort. I’m just worried about leaving Mulder to get our son.”

“Miller, Skinner and Einstein will get out with Mulder,” Monica reassured her. “They don’t have the manpower to keep that hospital on lockdown for long. They’ll need to set up stations where the lights were reported and their presence will decrease by fifty per cent. That’s when they can leave.”

“How do you know all this?” Scully asked as she pulled onto the highway.

Monica looked at her arm that was probably throbbing as the pain medication had not begun to help her yet. “I helped write the plan.”

Scully put a chocolate almond between her teeth. “Of course you did.”

If Scully had a scorecard to keep track of which side Monica stood on, she might not be able to tell if it was for or against the outcome that she and Mulder were hoping for. They wanted to save William and ultimately the planet from whatever it was that arrived. The Monica Reyes that was a friend and confidant to Scully was not someone who would have a hand in any plans to further the colonization and extinction of mankind. Unfortunately, her employment with CGB Spender and his syndicate would argue against that.

  
*** *** ***

  
The fastest route to Great Falls, Montana was a 1600 mile drive on the I-90 and I-94. Once there, Scully and Reyes planned to rendezvous with a team from the resistance group. Their goal was to head north to Canada where Spender had set aside the chosen people to survive the armageddon and bring William home.

Since the lights in the sky left, Monica was worried the invasion plan had been changed. Since her alliance to Spender might no longer be clear, getting into the meeting place would also be trickier. Monica told Scully that she had some assurances in case things didn’t go their way.

Monica had yet to inform Scully what those guarantees were but her confidence and secrecy was less than reassuring.

Until Scully had William safe with her and Mulder, her anxiety and stress would feel high. Saving William from some special location was only half of Scully’s goal. She wanted to bring William back to D.C. where he would be safe. She could protect him now like she couldn’t before. She would do better this time.

When they reached Holiday City, Scully pulled into the parking lot of a small motel that looked abandoned.

“Does it worry you that many of these small towns seem abandoned?” Scully asked Monica as she parked the car in front of the office.

Monica nodded. “I’m wondering if they’ve travelled to larger cities for medical attention.”

“People seemed to be fleeing Washington when the lights came, not running towards it,” Scully replied as she turned off the engine.

Monica and Scully approached the office that was quiet except for the radio playing snippets of the news through a crackling speaker.

“Do you think it’s abandoned?” Monica asked.

The light in the office behind the desk led Scully to believe that it wasn’t.

“Hello?” Scully called.

A young woman holding a shotgun came around the corner from the office with the barrel pointed towards the floor. Her long auburn braid was hanging down over her shoulder and she was wearing jeans and a plaid button down shirt. There was a confidence and assuredness about the young woman holding a gun that brought Scully back to her childhood, except this was not target practice in the woods. The young woman raised the barrel when she spotted Scully and Monica.

“Woah!” Scully held up her hands.

“Are you alone?” the young woman asked and Monica nodded as she held up her one good arm. “Who are you?”

“My name is Dana and I’m a medical doctor. This is my friend Monica,” Scully introduced. “We were looking for a place to rest for the night. Are you here alone? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“M-M-Meredith,” she stammered. The young woman shook her head and suddenly she looked no older than sixteen to Scully. “My parents took my older brother to the hospital. I’m here with my little sister.”

“Is your older brother sick?” Scully asked. “Are you all right?”

The young woman nodded. “He got a fever. He was coughing and had a rash all over his body.”

Monica glanced at Scully. “Why are you okay?”

“We got… We got a shot,” Meredith explained.

“What kind of shot?” Scully asked.

“The bottles said Hantavirus but we don’t have a lot of Cotton Rats in this area,” Meredith explained.

Smart girl, Scully thought. But more than just the Cotton Rat carried this virus. Deer Mice, Rice Rats and White-Footed Mice are known to carry the virus too.

“You didn’t pose any symptoms like your brother?” Monica asked.

“No… We’ve all been okay except for my brother. Some men came through town two weeks ago,” Meredith said as she held the gun shaking in her hands. “Tim - uh my brother - he, uh… he wouldn’t get the shot. He got into an argument with one of the men and took off into the field.”

“Who were these men?” Scully asked.

“They were dressed like businessmen with security like you see in movies,” Meredith explained slowly. “They said they were with the CDC.”

Scully shook her head and turned to Monica. “Is this shot similar to the vaccine?”

Monica nodded slightly, looking relieved. “Where is your brother now?”

“He went to the hospital with my parents before the lights came,” Meredith answered as she lowered the shotgun. “It’s been all a panic since everything happened. Before my cell signal dropped, I got a text from my friend to head to Montpelier to the shelter that’s been set up but my parents took the only car. I can’t walk five miles into town with my sister, Erin. I have to wait for them to get back from the hospital in Toledo.”

“When did they leave?” Scully asked.

“It’s been over a day,” Meredith said worriedly. “The only people who have been by here since then are looters after the TVs.”

“The Army came through and told us to stay put,” Erin offered as she came around the corner.

Scully guessed she was about twelve with the same auburn hair and dark green eyes. Her heart ached for these girls to be abandoned here while the world was in chaos.

“Army?” Scully clarified.

“Men dressed in full gear,” Meredith confirmed.

“Like you see on the news,” Erin added from behind her sister. “They had big rifles and guns on their hips.”

“Who were those men, Monica?” Scully asked as the women lowered her arms. Monica shook her head and Scully sighed. “Meredith, we just need to spend the night here. We can pay in cash.”

Meredith looked over her shoulder and then back to Scully and Monica. “We need food. We’ve been stuck here protecting the hotel because we don’t want the rooms to get looted. Our house is down the road and we ate all the snacks my parents left us with.”

This shouldn’t be the responsibility of children. This shouldn’t be happening at all.

Monica offered to take Meredith and her sister up to the house to get something to eat if they would be allowed to stay the night at the hotel. The landlines were not working to call the hospital and like the young woman had mentioned, cell service wasn’t working in the area either.

Monica gave Scully a long range walkie-talkie from the back of their SUV and the bags they packed at Target. She promised to be back soon and took the girls to the house. It was just up the road from the motel so their separation would be short-lived. Scully locked the office doors and walked to the second room to have well-deserved shower.

She washed her hair and scrubbed her skin to rid it from the decontamination shower soap. She felt frivolous as she pulled a razor across her legs and underarms but when the world was falling apart, small things could help to make you feel more like yourself.

When she exited the shower, the door on the bathroom was still locked and she sat on the edge of the tub as she rubbed the soothing lotion up her arms and legs. The towel was clinging to her skin as she unpacked her pyjamas from her bag. She felt the familiarity of too many nights in small towns with Mulder, except the television would be blaring through the thin walls. He would give her ten minutes to dress before he came to her door and to ask her where she wanted to get dinner.

After they became a couple, he would still give her that time to find her own headspace and clarity before he came over to see what she wanted to do. The time span after her shower before he came over shortened once they got involved. On more than one occasion, the door to her room was barely closed before he was tossing her robe across the room and taking her on the dresser, the bed or against the wall of her room.

She looked around the space and thought this would be exactly the kind of hotel he would have picked if he had been on the road with them. She touched the place where the cross would hang around her neck and said a prayer for him to be with her soon. Somehow she had to connect with them in D.C. about their overnight stop. She wanted Mulder to know she was safe but wasn’t sure how to communicate that to him. Something told her that Monica had a plan laid out for that too.

If Mulder was here, she would have asked him to share his fears and they could have found reassurance in each other. She wanted to find comfort and solace from a familiar presence. She needed him in every way and she felt the guilt of spending those years apart, wasting time that was valuable over an argument she would lose today. Even though she had just been thinking about their romantic interludes, sex right now was the furthest thing from her mind. She needed him because he was the person who pushed her to keep searching for the truth. William had replaced the truth and now her need to be pushed by Mulder was gone. She just wanted Mulder there as support, to help her if things didn’t-

She had to stop that line of thought.

Scully pulled her waffle print long-sleeved shirt over her frame and the matching flannel pants up her legs. She found a pair of new socks and walked to the window of the motel room. Monica had pulled up and was sitting in the SUV. She was looking at a phone screen and her face showed only shock. Something bad had happened.

Scully slipped her feet into the boots she picked up at Target and walked out to the car. She knocked on the window but there was no response.

“Monica?” she called as she opened the door. “Monica, what happened?”

Monica looked down at her phone and shook her head as her hand covered her mouth. She showed Scully the text message on the burner phone.

“Ten kids missing. William Van De Kamp possibly injured. Five of our men are dead.”

“Oh my god!” Scully gasped.

Another text came up on the screen. “We’re on our way there. Will message with updates.”

“Who is this?” Scully said as she showed the text to Monica. “Did they take my son? Where are they going?”

“My contact who can get inside the safe place. He’s someone we can trust,” Monica reassured her. “We need-”

“I need to know if and how he’s hurt,” Scully interrupted.

“They’ll contact me when they can, Dana,” Monica said gently and she winced. “I can’t call them back if they’re trying to remain unseen. What we need to do is get to the meeting place in Montana.”

Scully looked down at Monica’s arm and saw the sweat on her forehead. The pain medication wore off and she was probably barely making it through simple conversation without her nerves firing in anguish.

“Monica…”

“I’m fine, Dana,” Monica assured her. “I know you’re worried about William and the people I’m working with-”

“It won’t do us any good if we’re run off the road because we were too tired to drive. We can’t go to them right now,” Scully told her regretfully. Logic was arguing against her desire to be there on a moments notice. They had to stay under the radar and while it might be safer to drive at night, it wasn’t the smartest choice for two people who had been through hell and back in the last twelve hours. “I need to take a look at your arm. We need food and a good night’s rest. I’m exhausted. We can’t drive all night to crash on the side of the road trying to make up for lost time.”

Monica put her hand on her arm. “Do you have any more of those extra strength pills?”

Scully nodded as she helped Monica out of the car. “You have to eat first and then I’ll drug you up.”

“I bet Mulder heard that a lot the last twenty years,” Monica replied and groaned as she walked towards the door. She stopped when she saw Scully’s face. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that…”

Scully let out a long breath. “It’s not far off.”

Monica laughed and then winced. “Okay food then pills then you can be funny.”

She helped Monica into the motel room to sit on the second bed. “I think you and Mulder are the only two people who think I’m funny.”

Monica opened one of the protein bars and took a healthy bite. When she was done chewing, she said, “That’s not true. John said you were funny.”

Scully looked at Monica solemnly. “Do you miss him?”

“Every day,” she answered quickly and took another bite.

Scully helped Monica out of her jacket and sat on the bed to look at her arm. The blood had stopped gushing but the skin still looked burned from where the bullet had grazed her skin. Despite the stitches that Scully had put into her arm, the grazed wound would need time to heal.

“I need to get my kit,” she said and Monica nodded as she continued to eat the chocolate mint bar.

She pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, took out two extra strength Motrin from the bottle and handed them to Monica, who tossed them back without missing a bite of her food. Scully put the medical bag behind her and sat sideways on the bed with fresh gloves on. She pulled out the antiseptic wipes and carefully moved it across Monica’s stitches. She paused mid-bite to wince.

“Sorry,” Scully said through her teeth. “Your stitches look good.”

Monica tugged at the collar on her tank top. “I can’t tell if you’re telling me the truth.”

“Now we both know how it feels,” Scully replied quietly as she dabbed the wound again.

Monica hissed in pain. “Unfair.”

Scully put her hands in her lap with the antiseptic cloth pointing towards the ceiling. “Probably. I’m not feeling like I should play fairly right now with the stakes being what they are.”

Monica put her hand on Scully’s arm and rubbed up the bare skin before the sleeve of her shirt. “Dana… I thought about you and Mulder all the time. I was doing this to _help_ you.”

“And you’ve grown accustomed to lying, Monica,” Scully reminded her. “I need to know everything you’re planning and what you’ve set into motion.”

Monica glanced at the clock. “It’s late. I need a shower. I want to sleep. Can I get a break from the interrogation for a minute to do any of those things?”

Scully took Monica’s hand in her arm and continued to clean the wound. “I suppose. I’m sorry for being so curt-”

“I deserve it,” Monica interrupted and Scully pressed her lips together. “I helped organize this plan of attack on the American people. I gave FEMA the plan of action that Spender and his strategists helped write. I encouraged them to take over hospitals as a place of power.”

“Why did you?” Scully asked as she wrapped a new bandage around Monica’s bicep. “When you saw that this was actually becoming a reality, why didn’t you run?”

“Do you think there was anywhere that I could have run to where they wouldn’t have found me?” Monica countered.

Scully closed her eyes. “You’re right.”

Monica shook her head. “I don’t think you can understand what the last five years have been like for me.”

“I hid Mulder in our house for three years after two years on the run,” Scully replied flatly.

“Touché,” Monica replied.

Scully put two pieces of tape across the bandage and put her supplies back into her kit. “Where are the girls?”

“I convinced them to sleep at their house for the night,” Monica sighed. “How can I shower with this on?”

Scully got off the bed and found the roll of Saran Wrap from one of the grocery bags with the red Target logo on it. “This.”

“ _Tar-jay_ really has everything,” Monica commented.

Scully laughed. “What?”

“Tar-jay… Target?” Monica clarified. “You’ve never heard anyone call it that?”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve had a personal conversation with since my mother passed,” Scully replied quietly and took a strip of the wrap to layer around the bandage. “I don’t know if my mother would have known that slang either.”

Monica frowned. “I would say that’s wrong but my life is about the same level of pathetic sadness.”

Scully taped the plastic wrap so the bandage would stay dry. “I’m not pathetic.”

Monica chuffed a laugh. “We’re a little pathetic. I mean, we’re heroic too but we’re not like other women I know or used to know.”

Scully sighed. “I would rather be this person I am with Mulder in my life than a damsel in distress.”

Monica nodded. “Well, you have a good point there.”

Scully put the cling wrap back in the Target bag and moved over to her bed. She touched her cross and closed her eyes as she prayed for William, Mulder and the people back at Our Lady of Sorrows.

Monica got off the bed and walked across the room towards the bathroom. She put a hand on Scully’s shoulder. “Thank you for not leaving me on that field. William will be okay. My people know how important he is to me.”

Scully looked up at her friend and nodded. She gave Monica’s hand a pat with hers and in return, Monica squeezed her fingers. This was going to be a hard journey they would have to rely on each other for if they were going to survive it.

As her eyes closed, sleep evaded her as her mind searched for possibilities of what was ahead of them. She wanted to know for certain that they would get to William before they were found. She had to be sure he wasn’t injured badly to calm her mind but there was no way of knowing that. The phone on the bedside table between her and Monica’s beds had no new messages. The fact that she got the message at all when cell service had been down was a million to one. What if news came in about William but they missed it because the service was down?

She tried to think positively and move past the current moment. She tried to picture a reunion in her mind but her anxiety waged on. What if she couldn’t recognize him in a crowd of other children and it proved once more how motherhood wasn’t for her? The guilt surrounding sending William away as a baby overwhelmed her. What if he wanted nothing to do with her? She was a virtual stranger to him and her feelings would probably be completely unrequited.

Anxiety continued to run rampant but eventually, she drifted into slumber.

Morning came after what felt like a short slumber. The sun was peeking through the blinds and the clock read the early hour on the night stand between their beds.

It hadn’t been the most relaxing sleep of her life but she didn’t remember dreaming. Usually when stressed, Scully would have nightmares about the things she feared were looming in her future. Her anxiety had run high the last few days. As her eyes focused, she noticed a figure lingering outside. Scully’s eyes went from half-open to fully alert.

“Monica,” she whispered. “Monica!”

Scully felt panicked that they had been discovered by Army personnel going through the area doing a sweep. They couldn’t get caught now after they had made such a quick exit in the first place. She didn’t ditch Mulder only to be stopped now.

Quickly glancing over her shoulder, Monica pulled her gun from the bedside table drawer before getting up and walking towards the door behind Scully. Monica held her finger to her lips and stood behind the door while Scully put her hand on the knob. She opened the door slightly to see Meredith and her younger sister, Erin standing with a tray of food in fresh clothes.

“Meredith,” Scully sighed.

“We brought you some breakfast,” Meredith offered. “Cell service came on in the middle of the night and my friend showed me this.”

Meredith showed Scully a photo on her phone. It was a wanted notice for Scully and Reyes for the murder of a FEMA agent at Our Lady of Sorrows. “Oh my god!”

Monica opened the door and tucked the gun under her arm as she looked at the BOLO. “Son of a bitch… _Sorry_.”

“It’s fine,” Meredith assured them.

“Who would accuse us of murder?” Scully asked Monica. “We didn’t-”

“I didn’t tell anyone you were here,” Meredith said and Erin nodded behind her. “They had signs up at the hospital.”

Monica put her hand on Scully’s back. “We should get going.”

“Eat first,” Meredith offered. “We made you scrambled eggs and hash browns.”

“And waffles and bacon,” Meredith’s sister piped up.

“Right, waffles and bacon too,” Meredith added and grinned at her sister. “My parents will be back in an hour. I won’t take any money for the room but you have to get going.”

Monica nodded and handed back the phone. “We’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.”

“But the bacon,” Erin reminded them.

“Twenty minutes,” Scully negotiated and Meredith nodded. “Thank you.”

“We won’t say anything,” Meredith promised them.

Monica shrugged. “Why not?”

“Women have to stick together,” Erin spoke up with a raise of her eyebrows. Meredith nodded. “Also, you two don’t seem like the kind of people to hurt anyone.”

“This accusation is a _lie_ ,” Monica assured the young women. “We should give you money-”

“The cash you gave us last night is more than enough,” Meredith cut her off. “I’m sorry we don’t have any coffee.”

“The money? What money?” Scully turned to her travelling companion. “Monica?”

“I gave them money for the room,” Monica explained cautiously.

Scully shook her head at her accessory to murder before looking at the young girls in front of them. “We really appreciate everything.”

“ _Check out is in twenty minutes_ ,” Erin joked in a low voice and Meredith shook her head at her younger sister. “What? Dad lets me use that voice when he’s too tired to do the reminder knocks.”

Meredith handed the tray to Scully and closed the door. Through the door, Scully could hear Meredith scolding her younger sister. “You’re so _embarrassing_!”

“I’m not! You always have to be _cool_ ,” Erin replied back and the conversation sounded akin to something she would have had with Melissa. “ _They_ smiled.”

“ _Stop_!” Meredith ordered as their voices left the doorway.

“Food first?” Monica offered.

The eggs, hash browns and bacon smelled delicious. She took the cover off the plate and her stomach flipped at the idea of real food.

“Okay, fine… food first,” Scully acquiesced. “And then when we get on the road, I need a ten-gallon cup of coffee.”

“Are you concerned about your hair?” Monica asked as she glanced at Scully.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly as she put the food on the table and sat down. Scully pulled her hair out of the low ponytail she had it in and looked at the ends between her fingernails. “I never feel invisible with red hair.”

Monica removed the wrap on the plastic cutlery and took a bite from the eggs. “Food is _good_.”

Scully picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite of the crispy strip. She felt a rush of blood to her system as the meat hit her stomach and she realized how hungry she actually was. “Food is _really_ good.”

Monica cut a piece of the syrupy waffle and popped it in her mouth. “I love syrup.”

Scully dipped the bacon into the sugary liquid and nodded. “The first time Mulder and I ate breakfast at Lincoln’s Waffle House, he poured syrup on everything on his plate. I thought he would have diabetes by now.”

“Did his diet change or he’s just abnormally lucky?” she asked.

“Probably a bit of both,” Scully admitted. “His sleep habits are the worst of any of them. Then his diet.”

“I think John’s worst habit was Nascar,” Monica said flatly and Scully laughed. “What are we going to do about your hair?”

Scully shook her head. “I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses for the time being. The last time I had to dye my hair…”

“With Mulder?” Monica guessed as she ate a strip of bacon. Scully nodded. “What colour?”

“He suggested blonde but I thought that would be too obvious,” Scully replied. “I went lighter brown…”

Monica squinted one eye at her as she tried to picture it. “How did it look?”

Scully chewed thoughtfully on a bite of her hash brown. “I didn’t mind it but Mulder said he kept losing me in crowds.”

Monica raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that the point of being a fugitive?”

She chuckled. “That’s what I said.”

“I’m going to see if I can get in touch with my men in D.C. to get the BOLO lifted,” Monica told her and took another bite of bacon. She dipped the next part into the syrup, double dipping in their shared plate, and ate the rest of the strip. “I realize what I did there and I’m sorry.”

Scully shrugged. “I’m not concerned about germs at a time like this.”

“If it was another time?” Monica asked.

“I would call you a savage,” Scully deadpanned and they laughed.

Monica’s phone beeped on the bedside table and she got up from the table quickly to read the message. “My men are in Great Falls already. William is all right. He’s got a dislocated shoulder but he’s otherwise okay.”

“I told Mulder he needs to meet us-” Scully stopped herself. It was a secret location only they knew if their lives were in danger and telling someone else somehow tainted that. “I told him to meet me at a certain place and I don’t know how to get a hold of him.”

“If I contact Skinner through normal channels, we’ll be found out,” Monica said. “Andrew would have told them where we were going.”

“The question is, would Mulder meet me at Great Falls or would he stick to where I told him to go?”

Monica walked over to the table to show Scully the message and take another few bites of food. As she chewed, she walked back towards the bed she slept on and dropped her flannel pyjamas. In the same movement, she pulled on a fresh pair of jeans from her bag. Scully took the hint that she needed to dress as well and found fresh clothing for the day.

“How would Mulder think?” Monica proposed as she carefully removed the T-shirt she slept in before donning her bra and a new tank top. “Would he assume that you would stick to the plan or understand that the plan had changed?”

Scully noted when she and Monica first met that her sense of privacy was similar to Melissa’s or Mulder’s. Scully had always been more reserved, even through medical school. She turned her back to Monica as she shed her night shirt and put on the nude coloured bra she had on the day before. When she turned around, Monica was watching her from the table.

“Are you okay?”

Scully pulled on her white T-shirt and changed into her jeans. “I’m fine. I’m glad William is okay. I just don’t know about Mulder now.”

“It’s over two day’s drive to get to Great Falls,” Monica reminded her. “We’ll have plenty of time to figure out where they are within that time.”

Scully ate the last few bites of food that were prepared before she brushed her teeth and put on her army green canvas jacket. Monica did the same and they packed up everything they needed before getting in the car. They made a plan to stop at a rest station to pick up coffee, ball caps and sunglasses for the time being. At the moment, there had been no signs of more FEMA and Army involvement. That led Scully to believe that the more rural parts of the United States might be safe but nothing reassured her completely. She only had a feeling and relying on those gut instincts were never her strong suit.

  
***** *** *****

They stood in the back of a parking lot in a gas station near Elkhart County discussing their route and finding it hard to come to an agreement. They had driven for an hour before Monica convinced Scully to stop for coffee. They had two as they stretched their legs and did a recount of their gear. They went back in for a third cup and to purchase a map of the United States. Monica went back in for a fourth and returned with fruit and more chocolate almonds. In any other scenario, this would be a nice moment between the women. Enjoying coffee, discussing what route to take next while sharing experiences of other road trips with friends. They both knew this wasn’t a jovial trip and while the occasional comment was made to keep their moods from being too dark, it wasn’t a trip of fun and laughter.

Scully held the map across the hood of the SUV with their chosen route yet to be highlighted. She had her hair tucked under a dark blue baseball cap and sunglasses on her face. Monica had chosen a similar cap and sunglasses, tucking her dark locks completely under the cap. So far, a police patrol car had passed by their gas station twice but Monica had smartly changed the licence plates on their SUV with decoy plates that were kept in the trunk.

They were determined to avoid any and all major cities on their way to Great Falls, Montana. That meant taking a more southern route on the I-80 and therefore adding hours on to their trip. There was a brief discussion if they should head southwest before going north but their fear was extending their trip further.

“If we take any more precautions and add on too much time…” Scully began.

“The syndicate might find William before we do,” Monica finished for her. “Okay, it looks like the I-80 is the one to use.”

Scully highlighted their route and got into the driver's seat. Monica claimed her pain had subsided on her arm but Scully knew very well the pain and itching from a wound as it healed could come and go. She kept a bottle of extra strength Motrin in the centre console.

As they entered their seventh hour of driving near Mason City, Scully finished her last cup of coffee for the day and she felt her eye twitch at the rush of caffeine mixed with stress. Usually when enduring this kind of tension in her life, she made a plan for respite in her own home. She learned after many years with Mulder that solitude, a warm bath and quiet spaces helped recharge her batteries.

Obviously, those self-care tools would not be available to her while she searched for her son and tried to meet up with Mulder… But soon.

She took a Motrin for herself and finished off the last third of a bottle of water as they continued down the highway. They would need to stop for gas in the next hour and Monica had been insisting she was able to drive since they got into the car.

Anyone with an injury to their bicep would have lessened motor control over their arm and she had acquiesced to putting it into a sling. No one should drive while wearing a sling and even after reminding Monica of such a fact, Monica insisted she was able. She assumed that Monica was probably going stir crazy as the passenger and agreed she could drive until they stopped for the night with Murdo, South Dakota as their destination.

The sun was setting on the horizon when Scully had managed to close her eyes for an hour. To shield her eyes, Scully pulled the visor down on the passenger side and listened to the sound of the car on the highway. The wind cutting through the top of the window that was slightly ajar whistled and Scully hit the button to close the gap.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Monica noted.

Scully sat up a little straighter and took a sip of her water bottle from the centre console. “The highway seems eerily quiet.”

“I haven’t seen another vehicle on the road in over an hour,” Monica reported. “Maybe longer.”

“What was the vehicle?” Scully asked.

Monica looked at her quizzically. “A moving van.”

“Oh,” she sighed and covered her mouth as she yawned. “No police or military?”

Monica shook her head. “No.”

Scully nodded in approval and looked around the highway. “What’s that noise?”

Monica turned down the scratchy broadcast from the radio and tried to listen more intently. “It sounds like a plane.”

Scully shook her head. “Maybe?”

Monica looked in her rearview mirror and cleared her throat. “Dana…”

She looked out the back window of the SUV and saw the Sikorsky HH Pave Hawk helicopter as it approached behind them. “Shit!”

“That’s military,” Monica noted as she stepped on the gas to accelerate their speed.

“Where’s your phone?” Scully asked. “We need to call your contacts to let them know we’ve been spotted.”

Monica took the phone from her jacket pocket and handed it to Scully. “Press redial. Tell them we’re one hour outside of Murdo.”

Scully hit the green button but the phone alerted her there was no service and refused to make the connection. “Shit! There’s no signal.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt like she needed her adrenaline to take a back seat while she attempted to think clearly in the situation. The Sikorsky was not a combat craft, it was the search and rescue grade but that didn’t assuage her anxiety about impending doom. She needed to get to William and if they were detained now, they might miss him completely.

Monica sped up but the bird was too fast and closing the distance. Quickly, the helicopter was above them and for a moment she wondered if they would die there in the SUV from a blast from overhead.

“ _Shit_!” Monica said as she scanned the highway. “There’s a turn off coming up.”

“Can you make it?” Scully asked as she glanced at the exit marker and up her window to look for a sign of what the pilot was planning.

Monica stepped on the gas but the helicopter was faster. It flew fifty feet ahead of them and began to hover off the ground before it turned sideways to land across the pavement. Monica slammed on the breaks but kept the car running. If Monica backed up and turned around to escape south, she would have to take a long detour to get back north. Scully told herself that timing wasn’t exactly a priority if they were about to die. There were too many thoughts going on in her head and survival from this had to be paramount.

The pilot was watching them but made no mention of what his intentions were. Scully thought for a moment that with his goggles and helmet on, he looked more like Darth Vader bringing the end of times versus a rescue, which is what those choppers were intended for. The top propeller stilled along with the back blades. Whatever the intention of the party inside, they weren’t making a quick getaway. The door on the side of the helicopter began to move and the women shared a look.

“Where’s your weapon?” Monica asked.

Scully pulled it from behind her seat and put it between her knees with her hands on the butt. She looked at the safety and clicked it off while she watched the door slide across to open.

There was a haze on the pavement between them and Scully blinked her eyes twice as she tried to focus on what was coming. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to get into another shootout on a highway and not make it to William.

A tall figure stepped out of the helicopter and began walking towards them. He had on aviator sunglasses, a green canvas jacket and worn jeans. Scully blinked again.

“Is that-”

“Mulder?”

No. This was a trap. Mulder was stuck in Our Lady of Sorrows. He wasn’t walking towards her right now with a smug smile.

“You ladies need a lift?” he called to them as he pulled his sunglasses off and hanging them from the collar of his shirt.

Monica unbuckled her seatbelt but Scully put her hand on Monica’s leg to stop her.

“What if it’s a trap?” Scully asked.

Skinner stepped out of the helicopter in similar casual clothing to Mulder’s. He turned his head back to the pilot then to Monica looked at Scully.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked. “Shoot one of them to see if they ooze green and if they don’t, we can trust them?”

The cut above Mulder’s eye was similar to the one he endured during the fight but he looked too healthy to be the same man she left just thirty-six hours before.

“Scully!” Mulder called as he got closer.

Scully pulled her gun on Mulder through the windshield and he held up his hands.

“Woah!” he called. “Scully? It’s _me_.”

Skinner held back as he observed the interaction. She looked over to Monica and then past Mulder to try to make out signs of anyone else in the helicopter.

_Where were Einstein and Miller? Did they make it out okay?_

“I don’t see anyone else with them except for the pilot,” Monica whispered.

Scully rolled down her window. “I’m gonna step out of the car. Stay right there.”

Mulder nodded and kept his eyes on her as she opened the door and stood behind it. “Scully?”

“How did you get out of the hospital?” Scully quizzed.

“Andrew Michaud broke us out,” Mulder told them and pointed over his shoulder to the pilot with a relaxed thumb as though being questioned at gunpoint was an everyday occurrence for them.

After twenty years together, it wasn’t their first time to this particular situation but the stakes were the highest they had ever been. It was bizarre to anyone else that this would not be the first time she assumed he was a shape shifter alien. Their lives were not close to normal by any means.

“Miller and Einstein send their best,” he continued. “They’re holding down the fort in D.C.”

“Mulder cut the crap,” she snapped at him.

“Well at least I’m sure that you’re you,” he replied glibly as he took a few steps forward. Scully aimed her gun on him again and he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to get to William. I just want to find our son, Scully.”

Scully glanced over to Monica and she gestured to her wounded arm. Scully nodded in understanding and pulled her utility knife from her jacket pocket. Skinner stood at the helicopter watching the encounter. His mouth was moving as he spoke to the pilot but she couldn’t see what he was discussing. The air was tight and she didn’t know what their plan would be if the man in front of her oozed any green where he should be red.

“Agent Scully, lower your weapon!” Skinner called from behind Mulder.

“It’s okay!” Mulder called to them over his shoulder. He turned back to Scully and looked at her. "It's me, Scully."

From where she stood, he had the same wild green eyes she had looked into for seven years before they ever kissed. He had the same hard set jaw that clenched when he was angry or stressed. The man in front of her stood with the same gait as Mulder and sounded like Mulder but she had been fooled in the past. Once by an actual shape-shifting alien that tossed her around against a motel room wall and another who tried to take her to bed while her body succumbed to the cancer invading it.

“You know what to do,” she said as she tossed the knife at Mulder.

He caught it with his right hand and opened the tool to the blade. He punctured the sharpened blade into the tip of his pinky finger and held out his hand for her to see. He tucked the knife into his jacket pocket as the bright red blood coursing through his veins dripped down his palm and onto the pavement.

Scully ran around the car door, jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands held her back as one moved down to the familiar spot where he had touched for so many years before he ever kissed her.

“It is you.”

“Satisfied, you fucking skeptic?” he whispered glibly into her hair.

“I thought you were a clone,” she justified as he set her down. “You look too healthy.”

“Amazing what three rounds of alien DNA will do for you,” Mulder said as he grinned at her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You want to go get our son now?”

Scully looked up at him and nodded with a smile. “More than anything.”


	25. The Compound

The noise of the helicopter blades slicing through the air was drowned out slightly by the buzz of the intercom over the headphones as they began the first leg of the trip towards Great Falls, Montana. It would be a six-and-a-half hour flight to get to William and they would need to stop in Rapid City to refuel. There was a lot of discussion going on about whether they would fly through the night to Great Falls or stop for a short stretch to rest and recharge.

Under Michaud’s advisement, they left the SUV they had been driving abandoned on the side of the road. Their gear had been stashed in the back of the helicopter before they wiped the interior for prints and took the plates. If their vehicle was found, it would be a mystery of who it belonged to.

Skinner watched the space below them and as he glanced over to Michaud in the cockpit, he adjusted the microphone at his mouth.

“I think we should take a few hours to get some shut-eye,” Skinner suggested.

Michaud shook his head slightly. “If the wind and air traffic stay on our side, we should be there in ninety minutes.”

“You okay?” Mulder asked.

“I don’t trust helicopters,” Monica replied. “I was in one once that had a bad landing and I think I’m cursed.”

“I hate take off and landings in these things,” Scully agreed as she nodded in understanding. “I think I prefer a helicopter over a Cessna. We flew up to the Icy Cape and it was the worst landing I’ve ever experienced.”

Mulder held up his hands between them. “Let’s not play this game, okay ladies?”

Monica looked at Scully questioningly. “Talking about it makes it easier to work through.”

“Not Mulder,” Scully explained. “He gets more anxious the more he talks about possible worst-case scenarios.”

Mulder opened his mouth to reply in his defense but they hit an air pocket and he made a frustrated face.

“It’s bad luck to talk like that on an aircraft anyway,” Michaud piped up. “I need to keep the comm clear to get in contact with the private hanger in Rapid City.”

Mulder gave Scully a pointed look to emphasize that he was right and she nudged him. They shared a small laugh with Monica and she felt herself relax a little for the first time. It was nice to be back together.

He hadn’t shaved since the day before they ended up in quarantine and she appreciated how much healthier he looked. The booster dose he received at Our Lady of Sorrows had done wonders for his immune system but the cut on his eyebrow had yet to heal completely.

Scully looked across the helicopter to see Monica smiling at them and she grinned back. This was bizarre to be all back together like this but fitting. Skinner helped Scully escape and Monica was instrumental in bringing William safely into this world. It was only right that they were there to help reunite them with their son now.

“ _Rescue 980 this is Rapid West_ ,” a call came in.

“Rescue 980 here,” Michaud replied. “How’s it going Rapid West?”

“ _We’re ready for you to land Rescue 980_ ,” Rapid West called in. “ _What’s your time of arrival_?”

“Should be there in fifteen minutes,” Michaud said. “Are we ready with refuel?”

“ _We’ll get you in and out in thirty_ ,” Rapid West replied. “ _We’ll be on standby at the landing pad._ ”

“Over and out,” Michaud replied and the call clicked back to the familiar buzzing on the internal intercoms. “You ladies are in luck. There are actually proper toilets at this stop.”

Scully made a face at Monica. “I thought when I stopped chasing monsters in the woods, that would be the last I would hear about proper toilets at rest stations.”

“Take a woman [to chase Bigfoot one time in the middle of Colorado ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517883/chapters/19523872)and suddenly it’s every other week,” Mulder teased.

He was referring to the first case they had back after Donnie Pfaster almost destroyed everything. They went undercover to discover if the murders in the woods were because of a man or beast. The details of their experience in the woods were still burned in her brain but if she was being honest, it wasn’t the worst trip to the woods she had ever had.

Scully held up her hand as she began ticking off other monsters. “The Jersey Devil, flesh-eating green mites that attack in the dark, shape-shifting Amish-like sex attackers-”

“This was just their first year,” Skinner piped up.

“Infectious spores that put us in thirty-day quarantine,” she continued.

“There was a bathroom at most of those places,” Mulder interjected.

“A voodoo curse at a refugee camp, that boat that aged us sixty years, the infectious spores spread by the bugs that got me locked inside a men’s prison for two days and the cannibal chicken people in Dudley,” she continued.

“Jesus,” Michaud piped up. “What the hell did you stay for?”

“The _science_ ,” Mulder answered quickly.

“It was the most interesting job I had ever had. I wanted to make a difference at the FBI…” she began to rationalize and looked up at him. “I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

Mulder crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window. “I know.”

“How many agents with the FBI can say they witnessed the Stupendous Yappi in action,” she teased.

Mulder grinned at her. “Not me.”

“Right,” she said with a grin. “Your _negative_ energy.”

Mulder nudged her back and unfolded his arms.

Michaud cleared his throat. “Okay well I suppose Ms. Reyes would be happy to know there are bathrooms since Dr. Scully is an expert at roughing it.”

Their helicopter landed on the pad adjacent to the Rapid West hanger where a small private plane had been parked just inside. When the blades of the chopper stilled, a man in his mid-sixties approached their aircraft with a welcoming smile and a hat with the hanger’s logo on it.

“Welcome!” he greeted with a smile.

Michaud opened the heavy door. “Thanks for the help.”

The man nodded at Michaud as he exited his door. “Fight the future.”

Scully looked at the man more closely as they stood on the landing pad. He worked directly under S.A.C. Darius Michaud, who was their boss after the X-Files office was burned down. Darius Michaud was the Special Agent in Charge during the Texas bombing but the man in front of her wasn’t seen again once they got back to D.C. Scully assumed he stayed in the Dallas field office, however he had previously been in their bullpen.

“Agent Scully,” he extended his hand. “Nice to see you again. Hello, Agent Mulder.”

Mulder shook his hand with a smile. Scully wondered how he recognized her right away or if he knew she was coming. If was unnerving to be remembered by someone who barely spoke five words to her. Although now, she wondered if some people knew of her and Mulder by reputation for the wrong sinister reasons.

“Glen Cooper?” Scully asked.

“How are you?” he asked.

“It’s been a few years,” Scully noted.

Scully shook his hand and wondered if she should mistrust everyone on this encounter or trust most of what she was encountering and save her anxiety for when they got to Great Falls. Glen Cooper seemed like the kind of man who she could rely on to get them out of there safely.

“You’re working with the resistance?” Mulder asked as he looked around the area.

Cooper shrugged. “I left the FBI after Dallas and found some work in private security.”

“Now this?” Mulder asked.

“I tried to follow in Michaud’s footsteps as a patriot,” Cooper explained. “I love this country. I want to fight for humanity, not destroy it… And I’d love to spend more time catching up but you folks need to get moving. The group in Montana is anxious to get out of there.”

“Have you heard more about the escape?” Monica asked him.

Cooper nodded. “More of the children wanted to leave. They want to send another team in to get them.”

“What about if the lights return?” Scully asked. “Those… crafts?”

“They were looking for the Smoking Man,” Cooper assured them. “He’s not at the safe place either.”

“Why?” Scully asked.

“He didn’t deliver on his promise,” Cooper explained. “That safe haven was a joke. They wanted a slave race but too many people had a vaccine. The planet wasn’t supposed to fight back.”

The group stood quietly for a moment as they realized this was all coming to blows. Would the lights return? Without Spender, would they be subject to a full invasion without any chance or would the beings move on? There were no certainties of the future.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” Mulder asked exasperatedly. “How many decoys can he have?”

“More than you think,” Cooper replied grimly. “You folks need to get a move on.”

Scully, Monica and Mulder quickly went inside to use the bathroom and grab the supplies. Monica exited the small bathroom and glanced at them as they waited.

“We only have ten minutes before we leave,” Monica said with a pointed look.

Mulder smiled plainly at Monica and Scully let out a breath when she left them.

“Jeeze,” Scully chuffed. “Does she think we’re going to do it in a hanger bathroom?”

Mulder glanced inside the small space. “I think we’ve fooled around in more confined spaces, Scully.”

He looked at her and gave her a wink. She felt her cheeks grow hot because that was true but also not relevant now.

“Okay Mulder, focus,” she admonished. “We need to get to William.”

Never one to do as he was told, Mulder pulled her into the bathroom and pushed her against the flimsy wall of the small enclosure. Before she could protest she needed to brush her teeth, he pressed his body against hers. His arm wrapped around her neck and he kissed her with two days and twenty years of pent-up passion.

When his lips left hers just slightly, he looked at her and said, “You wanna use the head first?”

Leave it to Mulder to pick up military jargon after two days in a FEMA facility.

“Sure,” she said breathlessly.

When she exited the bathroom, she pulled her arm from Mulder’s grasp as he tried to bring her in for another kiss, walking right past him. She needed her head clear and not full of lustful, fluttery feelings. They were professionals and the steaks were too high.

Michaud and Skinner refuelled the tank on the chopper with Cooper. Scully stood in the hanger and shivered in the cool night air. Her heart clenched as she thought about their upcoming journey. What if William blamed her for his parent’s death? What if he ran away before they could get there?

Monica approached Scully and she gave her friend a tight smile.

“You okay, Dana?” Monica asked as she put a hand on Scully’s shoulder.

“I feel like I’m going into this unknown thing to see a young man who might not want anything to do with me,” she admitted.

“I suppose I should have explained what was in Great Falls,” Monica admitted as she crossed her arms with a shiver and Scully nodded. “In 1947 when the Roswell crash took place, the army had a base already in New Mexico. What people don’t know was that a resistance began shortly after we realized we could be colonized without much effort. We set up a place in Great Falls, Montana.”

“We?” Scully repeated.

“A group within the syndicate who wanted to fight against them from the inside. Double agents such as myself,” Monica explained.

Mulder approached the women and put an arm across Scully’s shoulders. “I was researching Great Falls in 2013.”

“You got close to finding out what really was going on,” Monica said. “We fed you as much false information as we could after you visited.”

“You’ve been there?” Scully asked as she looked up at him.

“Remember that fishing trip I said I was going to take?” he said.

“When I didn’t hear from you for three weeks,” she recalled and he nodded. “What did you see?”

“Abandoned army-type bases with barracks and fences,” he described. “I thought it was abandoned because the world didn’t end.”

“That’s half true,” Cooper said as he approached. “Sensors on the roads leading up to the compound alert anyone there to keep it on shut down. You folks are all fuelled up, by the way.”

“Why Great Falls?” Scully asked.

“It’s far enough from major cities it would survive a nuclear blast,” Mulder explained quietly.

Monica hesitated but she nodded. “It’s not just that. If we were forced to try to survive there, it has great soil quality to grow food. It has clean water from the Missouri River and mountain range protection from the west and south.”

“It has almost everything we need,” Cooper explained. “It’s also straight up the highway to the safe space that son of a bitch Spender set up.”

“In Canada?” Scully clarified.

“Only he would pick a place called Milk River,” Cooper scoffed. “I could continue to exchange pleasantries about how terribly we’ve been fucked over by that man but you folks need to get that bird in the air.”

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Monica said to Cooper and he gave her a quick hug.

They were back in the air promptly and on to Great Falls, Montana where Scully and Mulder would finally see their son again. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

 

  
***** *** *****

 

The steady beat of the helicopter blades was almost in sync with her heartbeat as they neared the landing pad in Great Falls. If she ever flew in another one of these things again, it would be too soon. Agitation was beginning to weigh on her nerves while she grew tired of the steady beat from the blades. It was in her dreams, even with the head phones on and she felt anxious at their proximity to seeing William.

Mulder reached across the seat to Scully and took her hand in his to soothe her nerves. As always, he felt warm in comparison to her and she wondered for the first time in a long time how it must feel to always touch someone who felt cold. He looked at her reassuringly and leaned as far as he could to kiss her forehead.

“You okay?”

“Anxious,” she stated and he nodded in appreciation. “Yes, I’m also proud of myself for recognizing the emotion.”

“You did better than _fine_ ,” he assured her and she smiled tightly. “Too soon?”

“Your timing is a little off,” she commented as she frowned a little.

“When has that ever stopped me?” he quipped with a halfway grin and she chuffed a laugh as her anxiety quelled a little more. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Folks we’ll be approaching Great Falls shortly,” Michaud announced over the radio. “When we land, we’ll be meeting with the team to take us to the compound.”

“Has a team responded to our arrival?” Skinner asked.

“There might be a lag in comms,” Michaud explained but it didn’t comfort her.

Scully shuffled her feet with the medic bag between her boots. It had the kit inside to set a shoulder and sling for William. Other essential items were inside including painkillers and dressings to change Monica’s bandage. She had insisted Monica put a sling back on for the duration of the drive and she acquiesced after another dosage of painkillers and a snack. Scully glanced at the watch on her wrist and tried to make a mental note to not allow Monica any more until the morning.

It was close to two a.m. and the night sky lit their path towards Great Falls with bright stars. Scully scanned the horizon every time she opened her eyes for other lights, aircraft or possibly another visiting ship. The horizon outside of the small Montana hamlet was clear with the Missouri River channeling in from the northeast. It appeared to be a quiet town with a small airport southwest of the town. Monica had told them when they took off that a group would be ready for their arrival.

Everyone in the cabin had slept except for Skinner and Michaud. If they could get any rest in the next five hours, she would insist on it. No one should be forced to stay awake for over twenty-four hours, even in this dire circumstance. The situation was less than ideal for everyone and she felt her body begin to tense with stress again.

“Did you get any sleep?” Mulder asked.

“Some,” she said quietly.

“We’re almost there,” he noted as he looked outside the helicopter. When he caught her gaze again, he must have seen something in her expression. His hand rubbed up her back reassuringly. “Are you scared?”

She nodded slightly. “I just… I’ve been thinking about how he must have felt about us over the years…”

“He can’t hate you,” he consoled her and she gave him a questioning look. “Maybe me but young men can’t hate their mothers. It’s biologically impossible and before you argue with me, because I know you want to, just remember that I have been a teenage boy and you haven’t, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Donnie Pfaster?” Scully pointed out.

“I think he just hated women in general,” Mulder mused. “Not just his mother…”

He had a point and her mind was too tired to find reasons why William might resent her. She couldn’t know anything and talking through potential bad scenarios wasn’t helping her. She couldn’t map out and plan for the emotional turmoil of a sixteen-year-old boy.

Scully reached into the inside of her jacket and pulled out a pack of gum. Mulder held his hand out and she put three pieces in his palm for him to share with her and Monica. As she chewed on the mint piece, she felt her ears pop and let out a long breath through her nose.

Mulder rubbed his thumb on the inside of her knee again and she looked up at him. “It’s okay.”

The helicopter hovered over a landing pad outside of Great Falls while a man stood waving glowing wands to guide them downward.

Monica watched out the window as they approached the landing and put her mouth to the microphone. “Andrew… no. Pull up.”

“What?” Michaud asked as he stopped the descent.

“That’s… he’s not from our team Andrew,” Monica said. “Something is wrong.”

Scully looked at the man with goggles and a bright vest on. With the lights from the helicopter illuminating the pad, she wasn’t sure how Monica could tell.

“He’s wearing dress shoes, Andrew,” Monica spotted as she put her finger on the glass. That was a big faux pas inside a helicopter but Scully wasn’t going to point that out. She saw the shoes and dress pants also. “For fuck’s sakes, pull up before we get shot down!”

Andrew ascended in the air and the man dropped his glowing wands. A gun was pulled from behind his back and Scully saw the flash of the gunpowder as it left the chamber.

There was a sound of silence in the cabin as they waited for the bullet to hit their chopper but nothing happened. Michaud continued to ascend into the sky and began to fly north of the city.

“What the hell is going on?” Scully asked as she watched for another gunshot. The man in the reflective vest was gone. “What was that?”

“We need to land soon,” Michaud told them. “We were supposed to refuel there.”

“Everyone hold on!” Skinner ordered as Michaud accelerated their speed away from the hanger.

Mulder, who was already gripping the overhead handle with one hand let out a grunt. “What did you think we’d be doing!”

Monica looked like she might be sick as the helicopter jerked to the side.

Scully continued to watch out the window as the hanger slowly receded out the window as they left it behind. This was not a good sign. There was a spark inside the hanger next to the landing pad and suddenly the building was on fire. The fire turned into a full-on blaze when a loud boom rang through the air and the helicopter jerked forward from a blast.

“Everyone okay?” Michaud asked the crowd.

“Fine,” Scully answered automatically. “Are you okay?”

Mulder nodded as he felt the space under his seatbelt that tightened when the craft moved suddenly. “I’ve been through worse.”

“You had a team down there,” Scully remembered as she looked across the aisle.

Monica’s chin wavered. “Do you think-”

“Don’t say it, Monica,” Michaud cut her off. “If our people were in there, they would have left if they thought danger was coming. They’ve trained for this.”

Scully knew another resistance team would have been waiting for them but with more men and women to get them to the compound outside of Great Falls. These were innocent people who just wanted to help save humanity and risked their lives by doing so.

Scully began to understand more of what Monica must have gone through. There was no certainty in living a double life and working in the resistance. Monica had probably lost more friends and allies through the years and a person like her with a bleeding heart for all good souls would want to save them all.

This was definitely the wrong line of work for someone who once described a whale song while Scully began feeling the pangs of labour. This woman should have had the opportunity to have a family if she wanted or at least live her life with John Doggett.

“Where can we set this bird down?” Skinner asked as he pulled out a topical map of the area out.

“We’ll have to land on that golf course next to the compound,” Michaud replied as he maneuvered over the city and towards a lush green grass area across the river.

“Will it be safe there?” Mulder asked.

Michaud didn’t answer him. “Rescue 980 calling out to R47 Base, please come in.”

The air was static and silent as Michaud set the craft down on the manicured grass in a clearing suitable for its wingspan. The group inside looked around the aircraft for signs of danger. Mulder grabbed a pair of night vision goggles to scan the horizon outside the chopper. Skinner used a pair as well as he watched the area in front.

“Looks clear,” Skinner announced.

Mulder continued to look and shook his head. “If there is anyone out there, I can’t see them.”

Scully watched his face and he nodded at her in reassurance. He put the goggles back up to his face and took a sharp breath. “Wait.”

“Where?” Skinner asked as he scanned the horizon where Mulder was looking. “Dammit, Mulder. What do you see?”

Mulder smiled and lowered his goggles. “It’s a deer.”

“A herd of them,” Skinner commented dryly. “Animal movement is a good sign, I would think.”

“You mean instead of them hiding in the forests?” Scully mused and had to agree. “Unless they know something we don’t.”

“Can I radio the base now?” Michaud asked tersely. He adjusted his mic and pressed the yellow comm button on the panel in the cockpit. “Rescue 980 to R47 base, please respond.”

A static and a crack came over the radio before silence again. Michaud took off his seatbelt angrily. The rest of the group followed suit and moved around in their seats to adjust their muscles after sitting for so long.

“What do you think is going on?” Mulder asked the crowd. “Who was at the hanger?”

“Anyone else feeling grateful that we’re all armed?” Mulder deadpanned.

Monica checked the phone in her pocket and closed her eyes in relief. “Cell signals are back up. I just got a text from inside the compound. They know we’re coming.”

“Can you ask them to radio back?” Michaud asked. “I don’t like going in blind.”

“Armed but blind,” Skinner muttered.

“Sounds like a bad break up album,” Mulder murmured and Scully nudged him.

Monica typed quickly as her thumbs moved across the screen of the phone and it buzzed instantly. “They want us to approach on the road. Get on channel seven.”

Michaud pulled a hand radio from his jacket and turned the military-issue device on. He adjusted the dials and held the receiver to his mouth. “R47 Base, please come in. This is Rescue 980, do you copy?”

There was silence on the other side and then a scratch as an incoming signal began to beep through.

“R47 Base do you copy?”

There was another buzz through the radio and Scully felt her heart sink.

“ _Nice to hear a friendly voice, Rescue 980_ ,” a man replied.

The group in the helicopter sighed in relief.

“ _We have injured here_ ,” the radio called. “ _I hope you brought someone with a set of hands who can help us_.”

Michaud glanced over his shoulder to Scully. “I have a doctor with me.”

Mulder reached across the seat and squeezed Scully’s hand.

“ _Any sign of trouble out there, Rescue 980_?” R47 asked.

“A little,” Michaud replied.

“ _Is that why you’re only ten minute’s walk from us_?” the radio called.

Michaud shook his head. “I guess it’s a relief that the cameras are still working.”

“ _Better get moving Rescue 980_ ,” R47 replied. “ _You’ve got another hour of darkness before sunrise. It comes up quick here. We’ll have a team waiting for you at the gate_.”

“See you soon,” Michaud replied. “Over and out.”

“ _Over and out_ ,” R47 signed off.

Michaud looked at the group and nodded at them. “We’ll have to carry our gear since we don’t have a car to transport us onto the compound so I hope everyone has sensible shoes on.”

Mulder glanced down at his boots. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t wear the black pumps today.”

Scully gave him a slow smile and felt the ultimate relief that he was there with her. “Ready?”

“Let’s get it on, honey,” he replied quietly.

They slowly unpacked their gear from the body of the helicopter before securing the craft as best they could. If anyone wanted to steal it, Scully was sure they could but in all likelihood, there wouldn’t be many people visiting a golf course after what just transpired.

She only hoped more and more people were receiving treatment and it was effective. The best-case scenario was quarantine, treatment and release back into the population when FEMA decided holding those infected wasn’t possible. There were too many afflicted and giving the antiviral shot was the first and paramount line of treatment. The worst-case scenario for those infected was death. She didn’t want to think of worst-case scenarios right now.

As they walked with backpacks on their fronts and backs, while carrying in tandem other bags through the golf course and towards Smelter Hill, Scully could hear the sound of the Missouri River in the distance. There was a soft dew in the air and her anxiety was keenly listening for outside noises such as approaching vehicles. Michaud veered them east towards Black Eagle Road and they walked along the soft pavement for longer than she liked. The only sound among the group was their footsteps on the pavement and the clinking of metal carabiners hitting each other. They had used the metal clips to string packs together for ease of transport.

Monica, carrying only one pack and holding her injured arm in a sling under her jacket, looked more weary than Skinner and Michaud.

“Are you all right?” Scully asked as she pulled her water from her front pack and handed it to her.

“I just need some sleep in a bed,” Monica replied with a reluctant smile. She took the water and drank the contents before tucking the empty bottle on top of her arm in her sling.

“ _Rescue 980, come in_ ,” Michaud’s radio called.

Michaud answered. “980 here.”

“We’re ready for you,” a voice came on and Scully felt it sounded too familiar to be a coincidence.

Her mind stopped her from saying anything out loud but Mulder must have caught her expression. He looked at her questioningly. “What?”

“It sounded like-” she stopped herself.

“Who?” Mulder asked.

Scully shook her head. She didn’t want to bring them up if it was just going to be something that saddened or distracted them from anything else that they were dealing with. Like William.

The gates of the compound were high and barbed wires hung across the fence. There were tall towers midway down the fence from the gate and a sharp white light illuminated the entrance as they approached.

“ _Hands up_ ,” a booming voice ordered as they were about six feet from the gates.

The group stopped with their boots grinding against the gravel of the road and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Everyone stay calm,” Michaud whispered to the group.

“Standard procedure when arriving to feel like you might be shot down by a sniper?” Mulder whispered.

“ _Quiet_ , Mulder,” Skinner snipped.

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” he said lightly as the gates buzzed then slowly opened.

“Tell a joke next time,” Michaud whispered.

“Those _are_ his jokes,” Scully muttered and Mulder gave her an appreciative grin.

Through the white lights, she could make out four figures approaching with a group behind them and another armed with rifles following closely together. The security at this compound was higher than her last visit to NASA and those people went up in space with expensive jets.

“Steady,” Michaud whispered as they were surrounded.

The five visitors held their hands over their heads while they were searched for weapons or anything else. With his fingers interlaced behind his head, Mulder looked over at Scully.

“Just like old times,” Mulder muttered as he glanced at Scully under his arm.

Scully ignored him as a man patted down her sides and pulled the gun from inside her jacket. Their weapons were taken and flashlights were shined on Scully and Mulder’s faces. Mulder winced when the man patting him down touched the butterfly bandages with his bare finger. The armed men took the weapons and gear they brought in. Monica had told them earlier everything would be searched once they got to the main house.

One of the men radioed out, “All clear.”

“ _Bring them in_ ,” a reply ordered and the radio went silent.

The group began walking down the gravel pathway and the gate closed behind them with a buzzer announcing the doors connecting together. It was a silent and tense walk from the gate to the main house.

The road was a slow incline towards a three-storey cabin that reminded Scully of the place they stayed at in Colorado. Instead of searching for beasts of the Arapaho National Forest, they were trying to stop the world from ending as they knew it.

Six smaller cabins were visible from where they walked on the property beyond the main house along the ridge line. She assumed from each window they would be able to see the gate. As they approached closer, she could see more cabins flanking the back and then a line of them maybe one hundred yards behind the main cabin.

In the early days of new European settlers and villages in North America, people often settled forts with a similar layout with a large space in the centre of the ‘village’. She wanted to assume there was more purpose to why everything had been laid out like this such as a garden on the centre grass but Scully couldn’t make out much of anything else. She imagined there were tactical and safety advantages to being set up in this regard, similar to an army base but with more of a rustic appearance without the flash of Mount Carmel.

This place felt similar to a place she had visited in 2004 with Mulder in Canada that was now a tourist spot. Crossing the border had been surprisingly easy both ways but they had fewer resources available in Canada.

Scully noted eagles nest lookout towers on the compound but minimal chatter amongst the crew. The sound of crickets and the hum of electricity were the only sounds she could really focus on after her heart stopped pounding loudly in her ear.

“They’re waiting for you,” one of the men who searched them told Monica as they stood on the porch. “We’ll search your belongings before you get them back tonight.”

“I know the drill,” Monica said.

Monica opened the front door and they walked into the front foyer were a group of people were waiting for them. The main floor was one large open space with couches, tables, a large kitchen along the back and fireplaces that remained unlit. Smoke billowing up through active chimneys would give away their positions and that was the last thing anyone here wanted. She didn’t need to be in on any plans or plots to know that.

At a time like this, even in the middle of summer, the night was cold. Exhaustion wore on her and she felt a shiver deep in her muscles to her bones. When they were given back their belongings, Scully needed another sweater.

“Welcome,” a young man approached with a slight limp. His glasses were a different style and his voice had dropped another few octaves but she knew that face anywhere.

“Gibson?” Scully called as he moved closer.

“Gibson Praise?” Mulder questioned as he studied the man in front of them.

Gibson extended his hand to her and Scully felt like crying for the first time since she and Monica had gotten back on the road. In her heart, she had carried a lot of guilt for not being able to protect him better. He had done so much to hide from the consortium and here he was.

He was taller than she expected but maybe had a few inches on her. His kind eyes looked inside her and she was sure he was listening to her assessing him in her mind. She was so glad to see him alive right now.

“I’m glad you’re alive too,” he said with a small smile.

“What… How did-” Mulder began.

“It’s a long story,” he answered Mulder and then smiled at Scully. “I knew you would come.”

She wanted to catch up but this wasn't entirely the time when there were injured people waiting for help.

“They said you needed a doctor,” Scully said anxiously. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Follow me,” he invited and looked towards the men searching the luggage who seemed to be aware of Gibson at all times. “She needs her medical bag.”

The young man on the end looked up and nodded at Gibson, retrieving the bag quickly and bringing it to Scully.

Gibson showed Scully and Mulder towards a row of cots in the back corner of the main floor. “We lost five of our men yesterday.”

Monica sighed deeply at the reminder. “Who?”

“Davis has the names,” Gibson told her and she nodded to leave them to get a debriefing.

“You said ten kids were missing,” Scully said. “When you texted Monica. Are they okay?”

Gibson nodded as he looked at the four people sitting in the makeshift infirmary. “They’ll be with us shortly.”

“How do you know?” Scully asked. “Are there more people in the resistance than this? Who else is out there? Do you know what happened at the airport when we tried to land?”

She was asking a hundred questions and feeling her words come out too fast for her tongue to catch up but she couldn’t help it. She was nervous about seeing William and there was a familiar feeling rushing through her like she had during her first ER shift on her own. It all was a mix of happiness with fear, hopefulness and dread. It boiled into anxiety and her voice shook as she asked Gibson questions that she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to right now.

“Scully,” Mulder said from beside her and she looked up at him with worry. “I’m just gonna hang back here for a second.”

Scully nodded and watched as he walked back towards the group they arrived with. Michaud, Monica and Skinner were drinking a steaming liquid from small cups and he gestured he would bring her one.

They had decided not to approach William with a rush of statements about who they were in relation to him. He was going to be told who they were but if they pushed him into an expectation of what they were supposed to be, they might not get the reaction and outcome they wanted. William had a lot happen to him in the last four days with his parents dying from the virus inflicted on them, being taken from the hospital and then rescued to this place. The biggest priority was his level of comfort with them as people, not just as absent parents trying to take over.

“I did the stitches on two of our friends but I can’t set an arm,” Gibson explained and Scully looked at him in question. “I’m more of a lab tech than an actual physicians assistant.”

On the corner cot with his arm tucked towards his body, a young man sat with a sketchbook in his lap and his eyes focused on the thick white paper in front of him. His pencil scratched lines before his finger smudged and he repeated the action. He had a dark grey zip-up hoodie draped over his shoulders and wore a white T-Shirt that had some blood across the collar. She wasn’t sure if it was his or not.

Wild green eyes like Mulder’s peeked up from beneath the wavy auburn brown hair as Gibson and Scully approached. He had a strong jaw and a similar nose to Mulder’s but his lips were more like Scully’s. It was hard to say for certain how much of herself she saw in him when she didn’t spend many hours staring at herself in the mirror. One thing was certain, she felt like she recognized his face immediately even though it had been fifteen years since she last saw him. Freckles adorned his cheeks and nose from too much sun as a child but he looked perfect either way.

“I know you,” he said with a voice deeper than she had expected. It had dropped with puberty but not so deep like Mulder’s.

Scully slowed her approach. “I’m Dana.”

“I know,” William said with a sideways grin that was so much Mulder it hurt her heart. “I know you.”

"William," Gibson warned and gestured to the small chair next to William’s bed as he sat on the cot across from the young mans. “Have a seat, Dana.”

Scully licked her lower lip nervously and sat down as William set the sketchbook behind him and tucked the pencil behind his ear. She noted it had been chewed on and she wondered if there was all Mulder in there or some of her too.

“I’m a medical doctor,” she introduced herself unnecessarily. “I wanted to look at your arm, see if it needed setting and put it in a sling.”

“It’s fine,” he lied and she felt a relief that maybe she was in there too. “I mean, it hurts like a-”

“ _Will_ ,” Gibson cut him off with a small shake of his head and a slight frown.

“Right well it hurts but I’m not dead so at least I can say that,” William explained. He looked at Scully with questioning eyes. “So can you fix me up, Doc?”

Scully nodded. “You’ll have to lay down and it will hurt but we brought medicine that should help. Um… You’re not allergic to anything are you?”

She hated that she had to ask that. He hadn’t shown any signs of allergies as a baby and done well with his first two rounds of vaccinations. Things change as babies get older.

Gibson stood up and pulled a clipboard from the table at the end of William’s cot. He glanced at the pages. “No allergies.”

“I’ve never even had hay fever,” William said somewhat boastfully. “Can you believe it?”

Scully nodded because she could believe it. “Lay down and I need someone to help me keep you still as we set your arm.”

William tucked the notebook behind him on the floor and laid on his back as Scully put on a pair of surgical gloves. She flattened her palms in the air over his body as he stretched out. He inherited his father's long legs too. She slowly peeled the zip-up sweatshirt from his shoulder and he winced as she brushed the skin.

“Pain?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied quickly.

“I need my medical bag,” she told Gibson and he set it on the night stand next to William’s head. “I’m going to give you a painkiller shot and then rotate your arm before I pop it back in.”

“It pops back in?” he asked as she swabbed his shoulder with an alcoholic swab.

Scully nodded as she injected 30 mg of Ketoralac. William watched the needle go into his shoulder and then looked up at her through his long lashes with a sombre face.

“I need to move your arm and there will be some discomfort,” she told him and he nodded.

She bent his elbow to ninety degrees and gripped the joint with both hands as she applied traction away from William’s body.

“How’s that feel?” she asked.

“Not great,” he replied honestly.

“Okay I’m about to pop it in,” she warned him. She took her right hand off his elbow to place it on his forearm to slowly rotate his elbow. “I just need to see how dislocated it is by doing this.”

“Fffff- crackers!” he cried out and then glanced over to Gibson. “I’m trying, man.”

“It will feel better if you let it out,” Scully said as she slowly rotated his elbow back. She gripped his elbow with both hands and used all her strength to apply traction to hear a satisfying popping sound as the ball of his humerus moved back into the glenoid.

“Fuck!” he yelled and the cabin became eerily quiet. William slowly sat up on the cot and put his large hand across his shoulder. “Sorry, everyone.”

Scully pulled the sling from her bag and slipped it up his arm before tightening the strap around his neck. William winced and she retracted her hands quickly.

“Too tight?”

“It’s okay.” William looked down at his arm and shook his head. “Do I have to wear this for long?”

“One to three weeks,” she advised as she sat back down on the chair by his cot. “Depending on how you heal.”

William pushed out his lower lip as he thought about it. “Even to sleep?”

She had had that exact conversation with Mulder after he had been attacked in the Florida woods by a Mothman. She wondered if she was smiling like an idiot right now or if she was maintaining some level of composure.

“It’s okay,” William said suddenly. “You’re fine.”

Scully looked into his eyes and wondered if he was poking around in her thoughts too.

“They - the kids like William… they can’t hear your thoughts like a radio like I can,” Gibson explained. “But he’s not like you either, Dana.”

“Activated alien DNA has some empathetic benefits,” William said quietly.

She was glad she was sitting down already so she wouldn’t have to feel her knees buckle from underneath her. She had wanted so much to give him up and know that he was healthy and happy. He didn’t seem displaced or angry but they had only spent moments together. There could be more lurking underneath the surface like some resentment he was holding back on while Gibson stood close by.

She recalled the movement she witnessed over his crib and thought at the time that maybe there could be something special or paranormal about him. Even with all the scenarios she ran through in her head, she wasn’t prepared to hear the truth now. 

“It's not as bad as you're picturing and Gibson has been pretty amazing,” William assured her with an admiration in his voice. “Helping us.”

“Helping you how?” she asked.

Gibson cleared his throat. “I’ve been the one doing the blood work and meeting with these kids to track their progress as their abilities have grown.”

After all he had experienced, it shocked her that he would be working along side them. Maybe it really was about the devil you know versus the devil you don't. She couldn't imagine his life if had spent it on the run. It would drive someone like him mad. 

“You were working with the syndicate like Monica?” Scully asked. "Why didn't you reach out to us?"

“It was the only way to keep all the children safe,” he explained. “To work within the group, collect the data and ensure that none of the children had been Frankensteined like I had.”

“They used you, Gibson,” Scully reminded him. “Even after you hid in the desert… why would you go back to working with them?”

“What was my alternative, Dana?” he asked her as he sat on the cot near her chair.

His eyes showed her the wisdom of someone far beyond the years he had in his life. He had seen more than he should have by being able to peek into the minds of those around him. He lived in fear as a child who had an ability to quantify their work into the paranormal and was subjected to tests only to discover they couldn’t harness what he was born with.

“I had to work with them,” he explained. “I’ve been able to prevent these children from being test subjects the way I was.”

“He helped all of us,” William told her. “Without him, we might not have been able to escape.”

She let out a steadying breath and stared at the floor, William reached his good arm out and put his warm fingers on her hands. This was such a thing that Mulder had done so early in their relationship, to touch her with his need for tactile comfort that she felt her heart sink. If she were to analyze Mulder, she would declare that as a child he was possibly not hugged enough which is why he was more demonstrative with his affection now. She hoped that wasn’t the case for William. Maybe their tactile nature was hereditary.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he pulled back.

She looked up at him and he smiled a little. “Hey.”

“So… I wanted to say…. I _know_ you,” he said to her and scanned the group before jutting his chin towards Mulder. “I know who he is too. I knew you were coming.”

“How’s that?” she asked lightly. She was a terrible liar but she could play it cool sometimes.

William reached under the bed to grab the notebook from the floor and set it on his lap. He turned the page to her and she saw a sketch of her face that absolutely floored her. “I think I’d know my own mother.”


	26. William

A deafening silence fell across the cabin as the group in the kitchen watched Gibson, Scully and William interact in the nook in the back of the house.

Mulder was watching as Scully held a hand over her mouth, looking at a pad of paper. There was a shock he hadn’t seen on her face since the moment he walked in on her in the bathroom with a positive pregnancy test in her shaking hand in an Oregon motel.

At the time, he had crouched in front of her and asked what he could do but she just wanted to be held. It was one of the last moments that year that he felt the closest to her. He didn’t feel that way again until he held their child in his arms and kissed her softly. He had found those moments over the last fifteen years but those two stuck out because of William now.

Mulder took two steps towards them and stopped when the voices of William and Scully came into earshot. She was sitting on the chair beside the cot with the sixteen-year-old boy. His wavy auburn hair was so much like Scully’s after two hours running through damp forests of Florida looking for Mothmen. There was so much of her in the young man sitting across from her, pointing at a picture with the same hopeful expression she gave Mulder time and time again when she wanted him to see the science through his theories.

“I’ve seen your face since I was small,” William told her. “I’ve been seeing you in my dreams… sometimes when Gibson and I were meeting.”

Scully pulled her hand down from her mouth and looked towards the young man they had known since he was twelve. “Gibson? Wait… I thought you could only read minds.”

Gibson was sitting on a cot across from William’s and sighed audibly as he stood up. “It’s more like… sharing images and a train of thought if you’re within range. It’s not like the radio sounds like when I hear your thoughts.”

“With everyone?” Mulder asked from his spot a few feet away and William looked up to make eye contact.

Mulder felt shaken to his core because for every physical characteristic that could be his, there was so much of Scully in this young man in front of him. Looking into William’s eyes when he was first born, there was wonder and trust that they exchanged. Now, William looked at Mulder with a curiosity and apprehension but maybe that was for other reasons. William was curious about them both. He clenched his chin in the same way Scully did before giving him bad news. It was strange for him to have a mannerism he couldn’t have picked up but was ingrained in his DNA.

“No,” William said quietly. “Just other kids like me and Gibson.”

“Can you… _feel_ us?” Scully asked hesitantly.

William grinned at her. “Yes, and you should relax.”

“Will,” Gibson warned him and shook his head again.

William gave Gibson a look and Mulder wondered if there were some shared thoughts going back and forth.

“Is it with everyone?” Mulder asked.

“No. I don’t know how it works exactly. Sometimes I have to be touching them or close by but with you guys, it’s different,” William said quietly and looked at Gibson for another beat before looking back at Mulder. “Maybe it’s because you’re my biological parents.”

Scully let out a breath he recognized as nerve steadying and he put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. She put her hand on his and squeezed his fingers.

Gibson and William shared another look and Mulder was sure there was something going on they weren’t expressing out loud.

“Why don’t we keep the conversations audible for right now, gents?” Mulder suggested and sat on the cot Gibson just vacated. He glanced down at the sketchbook that Scully had been holding and was impressed. “You’re good.”

“I didn’t have pictures of you guys growing up,” William muttered in obvious embarrassment as he pushed his mouth to the side and looked down at the arm in a sling. He looked up at Mulder sharply. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Will,” Gibson warned again.

“He’s poking around in my head,” William almost whined in a tone that Mulder appreciated.

This wasn’t some miracle child who would be perfect and live up to every expectation they had of a son without any of the disappointments. He was flawed and human, much like he and Scully. It made him relax a little. Scully glanced over her shoulder at Mulder and looked at him questioningly.

“I’m not,” Mulder defended. “I’m a.. well I was a profiler with the FBI and I usually read people but I can’t… I don’t have that… ability anymore.”

William looked at Mulder while he tried to ascertain how much was true. “You did at one time?”

“For a short time but uh… Scully and I, we’re not sure what brought it on,” Mulder nodded. “My… someone we knew through work and… we called him the Smoking Man… He took whatever it was out of me. It was only temporary. I had to get treatment to fix what they did to me.”

“I know who you mean. I met him up in Milk River,” William said with a sigh. “So, maybe that’s it? Residual or something.”

Scully looked over at Mulder. “John said you had brain cancer and were dying.”

It always irked Mulder just a little when Scully referred to men they worked with by their first names. He wasn’t about to go around calling himself Fox just to prove a point they were close or something but it bothered him nonetheless. Even after all they had been through, he felt territorial.

“I thought it was cancer but it was just something residual from what Spender did. You can’t just take a piece of someone’s brain out and expect them to recover,” Mulder explained quietly and glanced over to William. “Are you okay?”

William shook his head. “I’m really tired. The stuff you gave me is… I feel really worn out.”

“Your body needs to heal,” Scully said reluctantly. “Rest is paramount for you right now.”

Mulder glanced around the space and wondered where everyone was going to be sleeping for the night. Not much was shared with him about that when they arrived. They gave him a hot chocolate while they spoke in hushed tones about another arrival. He and Scully should eat before they collapsed from sheer exhaustion. It was almost dawn. The travel and emotional turmoil had worn on them all.

“I think we could all use some rest,” Mulder agreed.

She slowly stood up and looked around the main area. “Where are you sleeping?”

“I have a room upstairs,” William said. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it quickly. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Do you need… um.. help?” Mulder offered awkwardly as he and William all stood up as well. The young man shook his head with an expression he recognized as well. Seeing him make faces that he and Scully both made was kind of freaking him out. “Okay…. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Keep your arm immobilized,” Scully called after William as he left the makeshift triage area and headed towards the stairs. “You need to wear that sling to sleep in!”

“Thanks,” he said with an encouraging nod before making his way up the stairs.

When William had reached the top of the stairs, Scully looked to Gibson and put her hands on her hips.

“What the hell, Gibson?”

“I like that you don’t see me as a twelve-year-old boy anymore,” Gibson said with a kind tone. “It’s really nice to be seen as an adult who can be sworn at.”

“She says a lot dirtier and crass things than hell,” Mulder deadpanned.

“He doesn’t need to know that,” Scully said under her breath.

“I can hear you,” Gibson reminded Mulder and he pursed his lips. “ _Still_ hearing you.”

“Okay so stop it,” Mulder retorted.

“Gentlemen,” Scully interrupted. “I’d like some answers. I’ve been asking since this all started and I need something concrete.”

“I think we should give you something to eat and answer everything in the morning when everyone has been able to get some decent rest,” Monica interrupted as she approached. A young man stood behind her carrying a tray with what smelled like chili and corn bread. Mulder was so hungry he could smell the cumin. “Our bags are clean. There’s food here. We should really rest while we can.”

Mulder agreed. Scully had to be exhausted and it was the middle of the night. “Where do you want us?”

“If you grab your bags, you can follow Raj out to the cabins,” Monica offered. “We’re all tired and staying up all night isn’t going to help us tomorrow.”

Scully eventually conceded and wished Gibson good night. He reached out to her and she hugged him in a way he had seen her embrace her nephews. It bothered him a little that William didn’t reach out to Scully but maybe he could sense her apprehension. He didn’t know what Scully was feeling but William did - he had to admit that might be handy in the future but it was slightly annoying right now.

Mulder grabbed his and Scully’s overnight bags while she carried the food outside with Monica behind them. They walked along the thick gravel pathway to the right and Monica stopped in front of the small cabin on the end.

“I’m in here,” Monica announced. “Good night. We’ll be convening inside the main house at 9 a.m., okay?”

Mulder looked around at the last remnants of daylight. “I hope there’s coffee in Montana.”

“You can join us when you’re up,” Monica replied as she reached out to Scully and gave her a sideways hug that wasn’t the easiest considering she was holding a food tray. “Thank you for everything.”

Scully looked at Monica. “I should say the same thing.”

Monica looked down at her shoulder. “You saved my life.”

She tilted her head. “You saved my son.”

“All right,” Mulder coaxed Scully with a sideways nod.

Scully pulled her lips tight in a smile and followed Raj towards their cabin. Monica waved to them before disappearing inside her own. Raj was ten paces ahead of them and Scully cleared her throat.

“Mulder…”

He could sense something in her tone that maybe she wasn’t happy with him. “She had you the last two days, Scully.”

“Are you going to be territorial over Monica?” she clarified and he felt a little embarrassed because maybe that was the feeling. “What is it going to be like tomorrow when we get to spend more time with William?”

Mulder stopped in his tracks. “I have more of an emotional investment in our son than Monica right now. Can you give me a little credit?”

Scully said nothing as she turned to him then looked back to Raj waiting in front of another cabin. Maybe this wasn’t the best time or place to get into it and they should wait until they were in close quarters. She gave him a look that expressed exactly what he had just thought and walked up to the cabin where Raj was now standing inside.

“Do you want us to come by in the morning when the next guests arrive?” Raj asked.

Mulder looked at Scully in confusion and back to the young man in front of them. “Uh? Okay?”

Raj’s eyes widened. “Oh, you don’t know- never mind. We’ll wake you if we don’t hear from you by lunch.”

“We’ll be up,” Scully assured him.

Raj placed a hand on Scully’s shoulder. “I know… what you’re feeling but you should sleep while the excitement is low.”

“Are you one of the kids like William or Gibson?” Scully asked Raj quietly with a furrowed brow.

“It’s not consistent where and how,” Raj replied as he nodded slightly. “Like William said, we don’t really know how it all works. It’s kind of frustrating sometimes.”

Scully smiled at him sadly. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I’ve grown up knowing who I was and why I was born,” Raj told her. “ _None_ of us blame our mothers.”

Mulder felt relieved there was another source telling Scully that it wasn’t her fault. He let out a breath of relief. “Maybe don’t let us sleep past ten.”

Raj nodded. “Good night.”

Mulder took the tray from Scully’s hands as they watched Raj disappear down the path. “Nice kid.”

“They all seem like nice kids,” Scully noted as she closed the door.

Mulder set the tray down on the small table and pulled her towards his body. It was reassuring for him when she relaxed into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “William… He’s so much like you.”

“Me?” Scully asked as she looked up from his chest. “I think he’s more like you than me.”

“I don’t think so,” he disagreed.

“How can you say that?” she asked.

Mulder pulled her back to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “His hair for one. It looks like yours after chasing Mothmen through the Florida humidity.”

Scully pulled a hand between their bodies and pulled on her locks. “I guess.”

“And when he looks at you and trying to speak with you,” Mulder swallowed as he thought heavily about what he was about to say. “It’s like seeing you argue with me with your annoying science and facts through my beautifully crafted theories.”

Scully pulled her lips into a tight smile and he kissed the top of her head. “Beautifully crafted?”

Mulder grinned. “He might have my nose and my eyes but he’s you in a lot of ways too. Maybe he has my humour but I think kids who are-”

Scully raised an eyebrow at his choice to cut off what he was saying then. “Kids who are what?

“Maybe who grow up needing humour to be a defense mechanism,” he finished carefully.

“He knew who we were but couldn’t say anything to his parents,” Scully said into his chest. “That had to be so hard for him.”

Scully pulled away from him and he watched her smooth out her clothing and sit at the table to eat. She lifted the cover off the tray and the smell of cumin and chili spice filled the room.

“I think he has a really good network of people like him,” Mulder noted as he sat across from her. “I don’t think he’s royally screwed up.”

“Compared to what?” she asked as she put the plate of cornbread slices between them.

“Me?” he guessed and she laughed the small giggle that used to make him desire her before it was appropriate at work for her to make him feel such things. Mulder’s mouth worked into a grin. “I missed that laugh.”

“Mulder, if you’re the standard of which we measure healthy adolescents-”

“Okay, well, I think he’s probably doing better than we expected, considering,” Mulder cut her off and she handed him a spoon. He tapped the back of his against hers and they gave each other a secretive smile before looking at the meal in front of them. “Cheers, Scully.”

“It has been too long since I ate something decent,” Scully noted as she shovelled her spoon into the hearty bowl.

Mulder blew on the top of his food before taking a slice of the cornbread and eating half in one bite. “Guh.”

She nodded as she chewed thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen anyone else put broccoli and cheese in cornbread.”

“You thought you were the only one?” Mulder teased.

She shrugged as she looked around the well-dressed cabin. “No… I just… Sometimes I wonder if they had this ready for us because they know more about us than they’re letting on.”

Mulder looked at the decor inside. Dark flannels dressed the bed and couch while the furniture was rustic and homey, similar to pieces he and Scully had picked out for their home in Virginia.

“It seems familiar,” he noted and looked at her with questioning eyes. “What’s going on, Scully?”

She shook her head as she set her spoon on her plate. “Maybe I’ve been hanging out with you for too long but I’m… I’m not trusting this place completely.”

“Isn’t that my usual line?” he asked.

She made a pained face while she looked around the space again. “I don’t usually have a gut feeling like this.”

Mulder finished his chili and stood up from his place at the table. “I brought something to sweep for bugs. Want me to look while you eat?”

She nodded. “I don’t know why that’s romantic but it is.”

He chuckled. “Don’t say I don’t know how to woo a woman.”

Scully returned to her meal while he searched in his bag for his RF signal detector. Usually, his methods of checking a room took over an hour and with the late hour, he hoped that his initial search would be enough to relax her mind.

He pulled the small tool from the end pocket on his bag and turned it on. While he began searching the room, the small red light began to flicker as he moved it around where listening devices were normally stored. Electrical sockets, underneath lamps, inside picture frames and around light switches. He walked by the small countertop refrigerator at the galley across from the bed. He checked the coffee maker and inside the cupboards. Finally, he came back around to where they were eating.

When his light failed to indicate a possible microphone, he looked over his shoulder to see her sleeping with her head propped in her hand and the spoonful of chili between her fingers, resting on the edge of the plate.

Mulder switched the device off and set it down on the table before gently removing the spoon from Scully’s hand. He slowly picked her up into a cradle carry before walking her towards the back of the cabin where the bed awaited. It had been a long day with emotional and physical demands. He couldn’t blame her for being exhausted.

Slowly and with care not to jostle her, he laid her on the bed, depositing her on the side she usually slept on. She made a soft grumbling sound as she pulled the pillow further under her head. It was adorable and there was something sexy in the way she pursed her lips as she snored quietly. Mulder brushed an errant strand from her face and her eyes opened slowly.

“I was trying to be careful,” he said as she tugged on his hand to sit next to her on the bed. “That’s subtle.”

She grinned at him and thread her fingers through his as he scooted closer to her on the mattress. His hip always fit in the crook of her body when she laid on her side. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied and brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. He looked over his shoulder to her boots and then back to her face. “I should get you out of those.”

“Is it safe?” she asked quietly and he nodded. “Then please do.”

Mulder moved to the end of the bed and began untying her boots. “Did you eat enough?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He sighed. At least she was admitting it. “Do you want me to-”

“Is there a fridge somewhere in here?” she cut him off quietly and he nodded. “I want to get some sleep.”

Mulder nodded again and left the bed to put her plate in the small appliance that looked like something out of the 1950s. It was quaint and quiet here. If they had to spend an extended amount of time here, he could be comfortable in such confined quarters with Scully. At least William was safe and he could rest finally knowing their son was alive and well. There were possibilities for them to reconcile as a family and move forward in the future towards a life that could resemble something normal.

As he untied Scully’s boots and tossed them on the floor, he thought about what he wanted in his life. The laces on his boots came out of the eyelets easily as he considered the lights in the sky, the sickness affecting the public and what could happen to the population.

Mulder couldn’t forego knowing these answers now but what if the safety of William depended on not looking?

“Mulder,” Scully mumbled as he sat on the end of the bed. He put his hands on his knees and looked up her body to where she was laying with her eyes closed. “I can feel you thinking.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

“The questions will be there in the morning,” she said and sniffed. “We need to sleep.”

He stood up and shed his jacket and jeans. Scully sat up and slowly did the same, wiggling herself under the covers as she pulled them from behind her and over her legs.

“Nice move,” he noted as he climbed into the bed next to her.

The pillow top mattress felt like heaven after sleeping in hospital beds and helicopters the last three days. Mulder let out an appreciative groan.

“I know,” she agreed and rolled onto her side to scoot closer to him.

She put her hand on his bicep and clutched the material of his T-shirt sleeve between her thumb and forefinger. It was a habit she had started when they were forced to share a bed during their early partnership and continued well after they began sleeping together for romantic reasons.

It was captivating and smart - both things that were very Scully in their early years. Mostly, it just made him like her more than he wanted to.

He was sure it wasn’t intentional until she whispered as she was falling asleep and her fingers tugged on the material, “So you don’t ditch me in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not going to ditch you in the middle of the night, Scully,” Mulder teased quietly.

“Just in case you decide to save the world alone,” she rejoined as she hooked one leg over his lap.

Mulder moved his arm around her and she nestled herself into the crook of his arm, placing her head on his chest. He knew she would be asleep within moments as the sound of his heartbeat lulled her into slumber. It wasn’t often that she slept curled against him but when she did, he knew she was desperate for the rest.

He kissed the top of her head and let the sound of her steady breath in and out soothe him to sleep also. The worries of tomorrow would be there and he wanted to be ready for it.

 

  
***** *** *****

 

 

Mulder awoke to the sound of a coffee maker percolating with steady dripping into the glass pot while the steam evaporated into the cool cabin air.

Mulder looked over to the counter where the noise of the machine was emanating and he smiled at the sight of Scully eating out of a bowl from the rustic wood countertop. She stood wearing only a T-shirt and panties on one leg, with her other foot pressed against the inside of her thigh. He used to find her in this flamingo stance after a long week of working night shifts, eating ice cream or pasta in awkward morning hours.

“Morning,” she said as she wiped at the edge of her mouth.

“Is that any good?” Mulder asked as he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her.

Scully nodded. “I put the bowl in the toaster oven so it’s lukewarm.”

“That’s innovative,” Mulder noted. He felt more well-rested than he anticipated but it probably helped that the queen-sized bed they slept on was a soft pillow top and they got a little over six hours of rest. “Thanks for making the coffee.”

“I’m a little put off that they have our brand of beans,” Scully replied as she set the spoon in the bowl.

She poured them each a cup of coffee, prepared hers as she liked it and left his black before walking barefoot back towards him. Mulder sat up in the bed and folded his pillow in half before taking his cup from her.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Mulder noted before he took a sip.

“ _And_?” Scully prompted. “I’d love to hear your theory.”

“You really know how to get my motor going in the morning, Scully,” he teased and she rolled her eyes. He took another sip of his coffee and she looked at him expectantly. “Oh, my theory. Sorry.”

“Mulder,” she prompted.

“Bear with me here, Scully,” Mulder said in preparation and she waved her free hand towards her for him to tell her what he was thinking. “Gibson said that he’s been meeting with William since he was very young. What if Gibson has been close to us and we haven’t known it? He could have easily travelled to the property in Virginia. What if he and Monica… this whole group have been setting up this place with us in mind to come here?”

“And they put us in a cabin that looks similar to the house so we would feel more at ease?” Scully asked.

Mulder shrugged. “If something hit the planet, they chose this location for a reason. Maybe they had it set up here for us to be long-term guests. You must have seen the canned goods stocked in the cupboards.”

Scully looked back towards the small kitchenette in deep thought. She licked her lips as she looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to live here, Mulder.”

He nodded in agreement. “If the world is being taken over by an alien race-”

“Hiding here isn’t the right thing to do-”

“And I love you for saying that,” he continued. “We have to figure out a way to stop it.”

She nodded slowly. “Of all the people who could possibly figure out what is going on, the two of us are the ones who can fight this. There is no one else. It’s become our… absurd destiny.”

He leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. “You’ve come a long way from saying ‘Why us?’, Scully.”

She clenched her chin and pressed her forehead against his. “I think once you accept the why, conquering the how feels a lot easier.”

“Scully,” he whispered quietly. “You’re such a _damned_ romantic.”

He pulled her wrist to his lips and kissed her softly. He could see intent in her eyes but if there was time for that now, he wasn’t sure. Mulder sat up and set his coffee on the rustic wood nightstand.

He cleared his throat. “I really want to-”

“There’s not enough time,” she finished for him.

“It’s a little spooky how you’re in my head right now,” Mulder quipped. “But what about William?”

“We have to keep him safe,” Scully replied. “No matter what. I want him far away from all of this.”

“Again, in my head,” he said with a smile. “I agree.”

She set her coffee cup next to his and pulled the T-shirt over her head. “The shower looks more comfortable than a decontamination container. Why don’t you wash my back?”

Mulder was having trouble reading her exactly and the shift in her mood. Usually, she used work to distract him when there was something too difficult she didn’t want to face. On the rare occasion, she used sex to distract from certain topics but that was more his MO than hers. Even so, he couldn’t find a reason to say no and followed her into the bathroom. The morning erection he had been trying to hide before was now protruding from the waistband of his boxer shorts.

Scully had been busy that morning unpacking their toiletries and as they passed by the small kitchenette, he noticed the dishes had been done from his dinner the night before. He rebuked himself at his negligence but forgave himself quickly. They were tired last night.

Over the years, after his release from the FBI’s most wanted list and before his paranoia at the world ending, he had made a conscious effort to be a little tidier. He tried not to leave food in the sink after he washed his dishes and instead of sweeping crumbs onto the floor, he used a clean dishcloth to wipe the counters and dispose of stray food particles in the garbage or sink. His mind liked to ignore dust, dirt and clutter. He tried to see a bigger picture when he was at home but in order to relax, Scully needed her spaces to have a sense of order.

If they were getting a second chance and the world wasn’t going to come to an end, he could make that effort again. He owed her that at least that.

“Mulder,” Scully said as she turned on the showerhead in the stone tile enclosure.

He was applying toothpaste to his brush and raised his eyebrows as he put the dental tool in his mouth. “Ah?”

She stepped out of her panties and picked them up to toss them in his direction. The small garment hit the top of his head before landing on his shoulder. She stifled a laugh as she stepped inside the shower, “I doubt we have a lot of hot water.”

Mulder quickly brushed his teeth and set Scully’s pink panties on the edge of the sink before ridding himself of his underwear.

Of all the places he thought they might find themselves after everything this year, this wasn’t it. The cabin with its rustic charms and slightly upgraded fixtures was idyllic for the two of them. He had to wonder if all the cabins offered the amenities this one did or if this was because of William. A rational thought entered his mind that possibly they weren’t special in their sleeping quarters and their cabin was as nice as it was because it was meant for anyone to survive an invasion.

He pulled the white curtain aside to step in the shower and looked down at Scully as she stood under the water. Thoughts pertaining to their situation became fuzzy and focused on the sight of her breasts as the water cascaded down her smooth, ivory skin.

She wrapped her hand around his swollen cock and pulled his body towards hers with a gentle tug on his member.

“Your body seems to have recovered nicely from the exposure to the gas and virus,” Scully noted as her eyes studied the space where his rash once was.

It was hard not to have a thing for a woman in scrubs when she assessed his body with a clinical detachment of a medical doctor while also stroking him gently.

“You’re… fucking….” he started as he leaned down to her.

“Not yet,” she quipped and stopped him from kissing her. “I want to make sure you’re not going to pass out on me again.”

Mulder stood up straight. “Do you want me to touch my nose with opposing fingers?”

“That’s a sobriety test,” she reminded him as she continued to look over his torso. She released his hardened flesh from her hand and pressed her ear to his chest. “Take a deep breath.”

Mulder did as told and she made a motion with her finger for him to do it again. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. Scully stood up straight and gave him a disappointed look.

“What’s up, Doc?” he asked. “Am I all clear?”

“No shower sex,” she declared.

Mulder’s face fell and she laughed sympathetically. “You shouldn’t have… well… _fuck_ , Scully.”

She laughed even harder as she turned from him and picked up the loofah and bar of soap. “I’m sorry, Mulder but your respiratory system needs another day before you partake in something as exerting as intercourse standing up.”

Mulder took the bar of soap from her when she was finished with it and began to lather up his chest. “As soon as we get out of here, I want you to get out your kit. You’re going to take my blood pressure, use that stethoscope to actually listen to my lungs and heart to see I’m fine and then I’m going to have sex with you against that kitchen counter. We’ll see who needs their respiratory system to get some rest.”

Scully grinned up at him. “This isn’t a challenge for you, Mulder. I don’t want you to pass-”

“ _You’re_ gonna pass out,” he cut her off challengingly and she raised her eyebrows. “I mean… you know, from pleasure.”

Scully narrowed her eyes at him. “I would like to think that’s not going to happen but I’ll give you a proper physical when we get out of the shower.”

Mulder put the soap back on the small shelf that Scully had taken it from earlier. “And then we’ll see what’s what.”

She turned her back to him and handed him the loofah over her shoulder. “Do you mind?”

Mulder took the scratchy sponge from her and put one hand on her hip while he pulled the loofah across the skin on her back. He applied the pressure she liked, scraping her skin to make it redden under his touch. He turned her under the spray of the shower so the water washed away all the soap left behind from the sponge. The hand on her hip moved across her belly and pulled her ass flush to his lap where his erection was now nestled between her toned cheeks.

“Mulder,” she breathed but not with a tone that told him to stop.

This was a sigh he had heard through muffled ears when her legs were on either side of his head as he used his tongue to make her quake. This tone was encouraging and wanton.

He had barely touched her where he most wanted to but the anticipation was there, lingering and making his fingers twitch to be inside of her.

As he moved the loofah up her torso, his other hand moved between her legs and she sighed as his middle finger pushed between her folds. She let out a sigh as he circled the bundle of nerves at her centre with quick precision. She moaned as his mouth made contact with the sensitive skin on her neck. She was giving him every signal that she wanted him too but she had already said no…

“Scully,” he began in her ear as she rocked against his hips.

“Ya… Yeah?” she asked.

Mulder dropped the loofah and it hit the ground with a soft thump. He palmed her breast as his middle finger continued to circle her clit. “You were saying no earlier…”

“Yeah….” she breathed as she placed her palms on the wall in front of her.

He spread his legs a little more and gave his hips a small thrust so his cock slid between her legs and along her folds. “Do you… God, you’re so wet I can feel it already… fuck… do you need me to stop?”

Scully shook her head. “Don’t stop.”

“Even without the all clear from my doctor?” he pushed further as he continued to slide his cock along her slick folds.

Scully widened her stance and rocked against him. “I’ll take your vitals after you fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he took her hips in his hands and she tilted her ass up in the air.

The sound of the water hitting the cold tile floor of the shower echoed around them as he lined the head of his cock with her entrance. He didn’t wait for a reply. He began to push inside her, rocking slowly as he inched his way inside her tight walls.

Scully let out a long breath as she adjusted to his girth and he felt her walls relax as his finger began to work around her clit again. As soon as she relaxed, her back stiffened and she turned her face back so he could kiss her. He was going to play her body like a skilled musician. His mouth covered hers and he tasted the coffee on her tongue. He missed her over the last two days and he wanted to possess her completely right then. If he couldn’t have her on every surface of the cabin because of the problems of the world, he would take this moment right now.

It wasn’t just finding solace in her body that was the band-aid to his fears for what was coming. He needed her by his side as they searched for answers and fought whatever invasion was pending. This respite wouldn’t stall their upcoming journey by any means but it would certainly assuage his fears that it might be too much for them to handle.

He could always count on the touch of her hands on his body to calm his heart and steady his mind. Holding her in his hands right now was a last-ditch effort for him to find his own bravery again before charging into battle together. If they still had this together, the world couldn’t possibly come crashing down around them.

She felt so tight and welcoming inside. In his arms, she felt so small but curvaceous in all the ways that turned him on. Her breasts were firm in his palm as he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Scully whimpered as he thrust into her and he worked at making her repeat the sound.

He couldn’t get enough of hearing her breathe his name or sigh as he fucked her. He loved how her lithe and strong body felt in his hands. She pushed back against his body every time he thrust in and his fingers instinctively squeezed her breasts harder.

Scully whimpered again as he slammed into her harder. He stopped after five succinct thrusts because while this would be the way to get him to come, it wouldn’t be for her. He wanted to make her feel the elation of an orgasm or two before they had to face the world.

Mulder returned his right hand to her clit and began a slower rhythm that worked for her favour. He could feel her inner lips beginning to swell but that could be a long journey towards a release if there was too much weighing on her mind. He would have to take her mind completely off of the outside world and distract her with something life-affirming. They both needed it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he growled as he felt the rise of his need to come. She was breathing sin “Scully, you’re so tight.”

As he quickened his pace with his fingers on her sex, he kept his thrusts slow and steady. Each stroke kept his pleasure at the excruciating halfway point between his own burgeoning arousal and the relief of an orgasm. He could keep this rhythm, lingering below his own release if it helped build up hers.

She turned her face back towards him and he kissed her for all he was worth. His movements halted as their tongues played against each other. Mulder broke the kiss as he moaned in response to the tightening of her walls. He was feeling caught up in the experience of his own pleasure and he began pumping harder and faster. Scully moved her hand between her legs and began to touch herself to find her release.

He looked down at her toes as the water pooled around their feet, up her slender legs and up her thighs to her ass. His cock disappeared between her round ass cheeks as he fucked her harder and harder.

This was supposed to be for her but he was losing himself in the feeling of her tight pussy squeezing him as she worked herself into a frenzy with her own touch.

“Are you close?” he managed as he continued to pump furiously inside her. The sound of his hips slapping against her ass almost hid the sound of Scully mewling her response. She nodded weakly. “Me too. I want to feel you come, Scully. Come for me…”

He could feel her fingers moving faster against her sex as he slid in and out of her. She slapped her palm against the wall of the shower and her jaw dropped as he watched the ecstasy began to take over her body. He kept his pace steady but it was becoming erratic as he approached his own surrender into rapture.

Mulder slammed into her one last time and she cried out as he pulsed and shot into her. His brain didn’t register if it was a cry of pain or pleasure. All he could think about was letting go as it continued to wash over him.

Mulder panted as he held on to her hips and she shuddered under the stream of water. They couldn’t have much hot water left and he assumed she might want to wash her hair. That was the first rational thought he had that morning since she took off her T-shirt.

He reached to the shelf for the shampoo and put a dollop on his palm and began to work the pink aromatic gel into her scalp.

“ _Mulder_ …” she moaned and he felt his cock twitch inside her.

His fingers worked through her hair as she rocked against him. His cock was half-hard and tired from their activities but the sounds from her throat were making him want her again.

_This was the problem with being with a woman that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your miserable life,_ Mulder thought to himself. _Not quite a problem if you think about the fact that the world might end if you don’t go out and stop it._

“Scully…” Mulder began and he pulled back, slowly leaving her body and causing them to both groaned regretfully.

His cock twitched between them as she turned around to wash the shampoo out of her hair. Scully’s eyebrow perked up in question as she glanced down to his flesh and arched her back as she began to scrub the suds from her hair.

“Do you need to shampoo, Mulder?” she asked lightly.

“You’re a _cruel_ woman,” he said with a shake of his head before he began to lather his own hair.

Scully found the conditioner and worked it through her tresses. “You said that to me once before.”

Mulder thought back to [a train ride](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007260/chapters/9002086) that took them from an unexpected pit stop in Des Moines to Washington at the beginning of their relationship. This was before the idea of William was a possibility and she had fewer worry lines around her eyes because of all the things he had put her through.

“Some things don’t change,” he said with a shrug and maneuvered himself under the showerhead to rinse his hair.

Once he was finished washing off the remains of their impromptu conjugation and the soap from his body, he kissed her forehead and left her to finish her shower routine. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went in search of his coffee and to check on the time. They should be needed by the group soon and he was hoping there was more to eat than leftover chili.

A knock at the door sounded as Mulder was refilling his coffee cup and he ignored his state of undress as he crossed the room to answer the door.

“Coming,” he called.

Mulder brought his cup with him and glanced down again at his towel but shrugged because there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

Raj stood at the doorway with a smile he was trying to hold back that said he knew a lot more than he would tell Mulder. “This is your wake-up call.”

“Thank you,” Mulder replied assertively. “We’ll be over to the cabin in ten minutes.”

Raj peered over his shoulder and Mulder moved in the doorway to take up more space and prevent the young man from seeing anything of Scully in a state of undress. “Maybe we should make it fifteen.”

Mulder looked back inside the cabin and then back to Raj. “You know, it’s impolite to spy.”

That was probably a tone for a much younger child. While his own sense of privacy had been invaded so much in the last few days, it was Scully he was concerned for.

Raj cleared his throat. “Hard to miss a cabin rocking.”

Mulder set his coffee down on the table just by the door and took a step towards Raj. The teen took a few steps away from Mulder with his hands up and Mulder realized he might not be that threatening as an almost naked man. Or because he was almost naked, he was more threatening.

“Hey man,” Raj said with a slight panic. “I’m just teasing.”

Monica rounded the corner towards where they were having their standoff. “Good morning!”

The cool morning sun was shining down and the air was brisk around her that her cheeks were already pink from the low temperature. She looked freshly showered as well and was smiling as she approached along the pathway. Mulder put a hand on the waist of his towel and stepped back inside the cabin.

“Good morning,” he called. “We’ll be ready in ten minutes to join you guys.”

“Great!” she said with a happy smile that he hadn’t seen on her face since before Scully had William and Doggett was a man he was unsure of. “Raj, come with me. The others have arrived.”

Raj looked from Mulder suddenly. “Even-”

“Yes,” Monica cut him off and Raj nodded slowly in understanding. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Raj agreed.

Monica looked over to Mulder in the doorway with a smile. “Mulder, there’s breakfast in the cabin when you guys get there. William is asking for you.”

“I’m supposed to get their dinner dishes,” Raj explained as he walked towards Monica.

She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should ask for them instead of whatever you just said.”

“I’ll get them,” Mulder offered and disappeared inside the kitchen to get the tray of food. Scully’s half-eaten chili was hopefully not going to be taken as a sign of distaste. When he handed the tray back to Raj, he gave the young man a look. “Ten minutes.”

“Fifteen,” Raj muttered and followed Monica towards the main cabin.

Mulder stepped back inside the cabin and closed the door, unsure of who they were referring to. He was anxious now to get over to the group and find out more about what was going on there.

Scully exited the bathroom with her towel secured around her and walked over to get herself another cup of coffee. “Who was at the door?”

“Raj and Monica,” Mulder explained as he approached his clothing bag on the couch. “Can you be ready in ten minutes to get to the cabin?”

She pulled on the bottom of her damp hair and a droplet of water squeezed between her fingers. “Fifteen.”

“William was asking after us,” Mulder replied and she squeezed more water from her hair that dripped on the floor between them. He rolled his eyes as he pulled out a pair of underwear and fresh jeans for the day. “Fine.”

“I have to actually dry this or it will be a frizzy mess the whole day,” she explained at his look. “It might sound frivolous to you since the world could be ending-”

“No,” Mulder cut her off as he found a long sleeved shirt to put over his chest. “Blow dry your hair. I’ll wait. I’ll make the bed or something.”

“If it takes you fifteen minutes to make a queen sized bed, we need to talk,” she replied as she poured the cream into her coffee and replaced it back in the fridge. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mulder said as he drank more of his coffee. “I’m happy to wait for you. I want us to go over there together.”

Scully gave him a look as though she didn’t believe him but left to finish getting ready anyway. He wondered if he should be packing up their toiletries now in case they needed to make a hasty exit or if they would be staying another night. It was hard to know what to do in this situation and Scully had to be anxious to see William again. If she had a chance to blow dry her hair and get ready, it might steady her nerves and he shouldn’t be rushing her just to prove something to Raj.

He had a lot of questions for their son and he was unsure how to approach him. Mulder’s track record with teenagers, relating to them on their level and trying to identify with them, wasn’t always the best. He could admit that. Usually when he didn’t try, they found his fundamental attitude so different from most adults and then he was able to connect. He would try to be himself with William later.

“ _See_?” Scully said as she came out with her hair dry and a shirt in hand. “It’s better if I have time.”

Mulder looked at the bed that he had made as he was lost in thought and then to his watch. “Three minutes to spare.”

Scully pulled her long-sleeved black shirt over her head and found her boots where Mulder had discarded them at the end of the bed the night before. She sat on the couch to tie them and looked at him warily. “What was going on with you and Raj earlier?”

He shook his head in denial, not wanting to make something out of nothing. “Nothing.”

She tied the laces on her second boot and stood up as she looked around the living room. She picked up her green jacket off the chair and slowly put it on. “He’ll probably tell me later anyway.”

It was her way at reverse psychology but he knew that Raj wouldn’t because a teenage boy with good manners wouldn’t dare say something to a woman about the same things. He was surprised that Raj even said something to him.

“If he does mention it to you,” Mulder began as he dumped out the bottom half of his coffee in the sink. “Let me know so I can punch him in the face.”

“Oh,” she said before she drank the last of her coffee and put her cup next to Mulder’s. “Something cheeky?”

Mulder nodded. “He’s a little shit.”

Scully scoffed as they walked towards the door. “Aren’t most sixteen-year-olds?”

“Not all…” he mused with a shrug. “I hope William isn’t.”

She gave him a look that told him she agreed. She sighed as she picked up her doctor’s kit from the couch and looked up at Mulder. “Okay.”

He leaned down to her and kissed her softly. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m… I don’t know. It was such a short meeting,” she said with a shake of her head.

“He didn’t tell us to fuck off or anything,” Mulder noted as he kissed her forehead. “That’s not bad for parents who abandoned their only miracle child.”

She clenched her chin and sighed as she stepped out into the dewy morning air. “Do you think any part of him thinks we abandoned-”

“No,” he cut her off as he closed the door behind them. “That’s a bad joke and I gotta stop making those. I mean… maybe I abandoned you and William-”

“Mulder,” she cut him off. “You left because I asked you to. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“And I still killed a man who can’t die and was almost was put to death for it,” he reminded her. “I’m not much good without you, Scully. I think that much we can agree on.”

“We’re all together now,” she replied. “I just hope we can keep him far from whatever we’re going to be going up against.”

“I promise, Scully, I will do everything in my power to keep him safe,” Mulder vowed.

As they rounded the corner to the walkway up to the main cabin, Mulder spotted William watching them from the window. He had one hand on the glass above his head and the other arm was in a sling.

“Someone is anxious to see us,” Mulder noted.

William stepped away from the window and called something over his shoulder. He looked back at them as they approached and waved a hand. Scully smiled and waved back.

“Only fifteen years too late to have this kind of memory,” Mulder replied dryly at the sight of their son waiting for them in the window. Scully clucked her tongue as she shook her head. “Too soon?”

“ _Just_ a little,” she replied flatly. “But you’re right.”

He rubbed his hand up her back and before they entered the cabin, Scully took another calming breath.

“Let’s go save the world,” Mulder said with an enthusiastic tone as he reached for the door.

The thick cabin door swung open and William stepped into view. The main cabin was busy with noise of excited conversations. Young people hugging as their reunions took place after being separated.

“Good morning,” he greeted them.

Scully and Mulder entered the foyer and they stopped when a trio of men stood up from a couch in the living room.

“Holy shit,” Mulder said as he recognized the faces of three men who had been buried in Arlington. “Am I seeing this in my head or is this happening?”

“As we live and breathe,” Melvin Frohike greeted as he, John Byers and Ringo Langly walked towards them.

Langly’s white-blonde hair was now cut short. It was a sight to which Mulder thought he would never be witnessed to. Byers, Frohike and Langly had aged well for men who notoriously took poor care of themselves.

“How?” Scully asked as Frohike approached her for a hug. “We… buried you.”

“Watch the hands, Frohike,” Mulder warned him as the shorter man wrapped his arms around Scully.   
  
“We actually were put into protective custody and Monica managed to get us recruit us to work with the resistance,” Byers said as he embraced Mulder.

“You watch your hands too, Byers,” Mulder teased and that earned a laugh from Langly. Byers shook his head and Mulder shrugged. “Just because you come back from the dead-”

“That’s you,” Langly cut him off. “Technically we were never pronounced dead.”

Mulder pulled Langly in for a hug as Scully hugged Byers next. “Scully told me what happened. Why don’t you guys explain what went down?”

“Morris Fletcher,” Byers said. “He had the antidote and inoculated us before we went in to stop it. It wasn’t as much a suicide mission as we made it out to be but it was our way to get out of sight.”

“They went into custody after the funeral,” Monica explained. “Gibson helped us find them and bring them into our group.”

“Karnack strikes again,” Mulder muttered under his breath. “Where have you been? _Why_ couldn’t you reach out to us?”

“Just like getting you in touch with William, that would have been _very_ dangerous for all of you,” Monica explained.

Byers crooked his mouth to the side. "Well..."

“We weren’t _completely_ out of touch,” Frohike hinted.

“Byers, Frohike and I gave your name to certain sources over the years,” Langly said as William closed the door of the cabin. “Even though Monica wasn’t for it.”

“They arrived this morning before breakfast,” William told them. “And had some good stories about you guys.”

“That’s not comforting,” Scully said and William grinned at her.

Mulder looked around the space. “Is this it for surprises?”

William shrugged. “Until we leave for Monument Valley.”

“What's in Monument Valley?” Mulder asked as he glanced at Scully.

“Something that will help,” William answered and waited for a beat but Mulder and Scully said nothing. “You’ve got to trust me.”

Mulder heard those words come from Scully’s mouth on an Oregon bed almost twenty-five years ago and he wouldn’t go back on doing so for anything in the world.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Mulder,” Scully said quickly and he remembered how they promised to keep William safe. “What-”

“Trust him, Scully,” Mulder urged her and she looked between Mulder and William hesitantly. “It’s never gone wrong with us together.”

She closed her eyes and sighed as she acquiesced. When she opened her eyes, she nodded at Mulder once. “Together.”


End file.
